Identity
by BSKV
Summary: Content. He scoffed at the word. He envied the way that she hummed merrily to herself and smiled when she left tea outside of his door each day and how she had found a sanctuary in the prison in which he had sealed his fate. He couldn't decide if it had been more irritating to him, or whether or not it had intrigued him the most. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Hello dear readers!**

**I have finished this story and have begun to edit it. Here is the revised first chapter.**

**Please take a look at my book "Sight", which is finished, at fictionpress . net (my username is the same as this one).**

**Anyway, sadly ****I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, but all other characters are mine.**

**Enjoy!**

Ch. 1

Her legs burned with a fire that spread down to her toes, her vision blurred by her fearful tears, her ribs ached, but still she kept running. She could not look back, she could not pause; she could stop for nothing. She had to escape.

The street lamps cast an orange hue upon the slickened cobblestone streets that bore the remnants of the evening's rain. When she wasn't directly under their glares, the pitch-black darkness of the night sky made it impossible to see.

Despite her better judgement, Alinah cast a quick glance over her shoulder to see how well she had distanced herself from her pursuer, but she instantly collided into something.

"Oh, my!" an elderly woman exclaimed in surprise as she stumbled backward and steadied herself.

Alinah laid on the cold wet ground in a painful mess and the woman helped her up.

"I am s-sorry!" Alinah stuttered, looking at the empty streets behind her in fear. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest and her fingertips began to tingle. At any moment, she expected him to emerge from the shadows.

"Whatever is the matter, dear? Why are you running? And at such a time of night as this?"

Alinah turned back to look at the woman in earnest, and a few tears had escaped her crystal-blue eyes. "He's coming! He's going to get me!"

"Who, dear?"

"He hurts me! He's going to hurt me!" she shrieked hysterically, unable to comprehend anything that the woman was asking her. Her already-labored and rugged breathing turned into hyperventilating and she felt her world begin to close in on her. Her head pounded with a dull ache and she felt dizzy, steadying herself as the ground began to spin beneath her.

"Come inside, dear! Do not cry," the old woman cooed, gently ushering her to the doorstep of a nearby house.

After giving the oak door a few swift knocks, another elderly woman with grey hair opened the door.

"Annette, may we come inside? It is a matter of urgency."

Annette nodded her head and quickly brought them inside.

Alinah's pale and flushed face was met with the welcoming warmth of a nearby fireplace and once she had heard the door close behind them, her shoulders visibly relaxed. Still, she could not rest completely until she knew that he wouldn't find her.

"Come, sit," her savior urged her, gesturing to a rose-colored divan next to the fire.

Once seated, the two women looked genuinely concerned as they noticed how her hands trembled, but more importantly; the lighting gave them an ample view of the swollen bruises that had marked her neck, just above the ivory-colored chiffon neckline of her dirtied lilac-colored dress. Alinah did not notice their stare, as she continued to eye the door suspiciously, feeling as if it would burst open at any minute. He would not stop his pursuit of her until she was found.

Annette shot the young girl a look of sympathy and the other woman asked,

"What is your name?"

"A-alinah."

"Who has done this to you, Alinah?" Annette chirped in.

Still fearful, Alinah glanced nervously at the front door, half-expecting him to break it down and to find her. She had to remind herself that she was in a stranger's house, and that because he did not live in town and had simply been visiting, he would most likely not know the kind neighbor who had taken her in.

"My husband," Alinah responded. "Walter."

After the adrenaline had left her veins, she found herself washed over with a wave of utter exhaustion, and her puffy red eyes wanted nothing more than to shut in a lull of sleep. Confused, scared witless, and fatigued, she buried her face in her hands and wept like a child.

The older woman gasped and placed a hand on Alinah's shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"Do not worry, dear; for you are safe now. We will not let him find you, right, Annette?"

"Oh, yes, Elinor."

"Does he hurt you often?"

Alinah took a deep breath and licked her lips, thinking of what to say. She did not wish to discuss the matter in great detail, and so she could only nod her head.

"My husband is very angry with me," she said. "For I cannot bear any children!"

She began to cry hysterically again as she was reminded of her failures in both her marriage and her life. How she had to suffer for her disadvantages, and so cruelly at the hands of her husband.

"Oh, you poor thing, so shaken up!" Annette shook her head in sadness.

"We must take her in! We cannot let the poor creature suffer!" Elinor exclaimed.

Although Annette agreed with her friend, she had no resources to have another person in her household. As it was, she already had three daughters of her own, who were now fast asleep in their beds. "I am afraid that I do not have a spare bedroom, as I have but limited means-"

"Oh, do not fret, for I have more than enough room for the both of us!"

This promise from Elinor brought a small shard of hope back into Alinah's youthful face, and she now only sniffled.

"Really?" she asked in disbelief. She brought her face up to meet that of the old woman's.

She was a gentle-faced woman with wrinkles at the edges of her mouth and hazel-colored eyes, and her long white hair was piled on top of her head with tiny white pearl pins. She was rather short and stout and wore a dark grey dress.

"Yes, you may stay with me until you find a better situation-"

She was cut short by Alinah's arms suddenly being thrown around her in an embrace.

"Thank you!"

Elinor rubbed the young girl's back and gave it a soft pat before they parted.

"Yes, now, let us find something for you to wear-ah, that shall do!" she stood up and walked over to a coat hook, where a dark hooded cloak had been hung.

The coat was placed around Alinah's shoulders and her face was mostly covered by the large hood. It was just the sort of thing needed in order to keep her safe in the shadows as they made their way to Elinor's carriage. As the hour had been past ten o'clock, the streets were very silent and empty.

The ride was short and the two were promptly set before a small cottage located on the outer city limits. Elinor assisted Alinah out of the carriage and showed her inside. Alinah could not help but to glance around her, worried that she would be caught at any moment. Still, only silence in the darkness.

The house was somewhat small and humble, but very comfortable. Anywhere away from her husband would have been more than enough for her.

A few candles were lit, and because of the darkness and the searing pain in her head from crying, she could not see much around her of the rooms inside, but her mind was too weary and tired to pay attention, anyway.

"This will be your room," the elderly woman announced, opening the door to a small bedchamber. A quaint bed occupied the center of the room, along with a small fireplace, a dressing table and a chaise. Elinor smiled proudly as she watched Alinah make her way to the bed and collapse onto it with exhaustion.

Closing the door so that her guest may rest, she smiled to herself as she thought of how, after years of solitude, she would at last have a bit of company. If only it hadn't been under such pitiable circumstances, she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a rough draft. Please let me know what you think, as I continue to revise it.**

Ch. 2

The next morning, Alinah had slept in until well after ten o'clock, much needing the sleep. Mrs. Hankle gave her a brief tour of the property, and as they had strolled the small gardens, it was discovered that she had become a widow ten years ago and had never had children.

After a small brunch of brioche, Alinah set about to advertising for an occupation. Although Mrs. Hankle had welcomed her company, as she had often wished that she had had a daughter of her own, Alinah knew that she could not overstay her welcome, as her kind host did not have a favorable financial situation for more than a servant or two, and definitely couldn't afford provisions for two members of the household.

It made Elinor Hankle a bit sad and disappointed to know that her guest would be leaving soon, but she could only comfort herself with the thought that at least she had helped in some way.

"What are your skills or talents, Ms...?"

"Claude," Alinah replied.

"Ms. Claude."

Alinah sighed, being completely overwhelmed with the ads that lay in front of her on the table. She bit her lip and thought of what to say.

What strengths _did_ she have? Her family had had limited means when she was a child, and so she had only been taught basic skills, such as sewing, cleaning and housework. She had often envied the girls who's parents could afford for them to occupy their time with things such as playing the pianoforte, the violin or learning another language. Instead, Alinah had been robbed of her childhood to attend to the duties of a maid.

"I really do not have any particular talents," she replied humbly. She thought back to how her life had been for the past four years of marriage. Her husband had been somewhat wealthy, and so she had to learn the etiquette and polite mannerisms of society as she accompanied him to dinners and events. All that had been required of her had been to look pretty on Walter's arm in the presence of company, and even in that task, she felt that she had failed.

She always wore her chestnut-colored hair tightly pinned up and smoothed down so that no curl could escape (as she had very tight and unruly curls). She did not have the glow about her complexion or the twinkle in her eye that most women of six-and-twenty had obtained, no; she was plain and childless.

"Oh, come now," Mrs. Hankle responded. "There must be something!"

"Well, I can clean and cook."

"Ah!" Elinor's eyes lit up with hope. "Then perhaps you can secure the position of a cook for a wealthy household! Here," she pointed to an ad, "what about this one? 'Searching for someone who can cook, clean, and manage the stables."

"I have no experience with horses," Alinah responded sadly. She had often wished to own a horse as a little girl, but could not afford it.

"Hmm," Mrs. Hankle sighed.

"Perhaps this one? 'Seeking someone to preform the duties of cooking, cleaning and basic housework. Must do well alone, as Master is often absent'."

Mrs. Hankle frowned a little. "It does sound rather dreary. You would not mind being alone?"

"If the master is away for most of the time, then that means that there shall be hardly any visitors. My chances of Walter discovering me would be minimal. And the salary is generous, probably because of the lack of company. Do you know where 'Florienne' is?"

Mrs. Hankle nodded her head. "Yes, it is a town located approximately three hours from here. Do you think that your husband has heard of it?"

"No, for he is not originally from this area."

"Good, then you should be relatively safe, especially if it is a country residence. I shall give you a reference."

"Thank you."

"You are more than welcome, my dear," Mrs. Hankle gave a warm smile and returned to her task of needlework and rocked in her wooden chair. She could feel the excitement at the prospect of her young ward finding a sound residence, far away from the cruelty of her husband.

She still did not know the particulars of Ms. Claude's mistreatment, but she did not need to know. She could see the bruises on her neck that had looked even worse than the previous night and rather painful, and she did not wish to press the subject further. She knew that Alinah needed a fresh start, and she hoped that this ad would be the source of it.

About one week and-a-half later, Alinah received a reply from the ad. A 'Mr. Harris' had responded favorably, and she was to journey to the Deberaux Estate immediately.

Because of her quick escape from her husband, she did not have any belongings with her, save for a small pouch of money that she had managed to grab before she left. With it, she had just enough to purchase two modest dresses that were plain but would do. Although she knew that she would never go back to owning luxurious gowns and possessions, she could only hope that her salary would be enough to purchase her basic necessities.

She reasoned that she would rather live impoverished and plain, than to be at the top of the social ladder with all of the material possessions that she could think of, if it meant that she would have to remain married to Walter in order to obtain rank.

Packing what little things she had in a cloth sack, she finished straightening up her room and making the bed before she made her way to the door. Sighing, she glanced back at the little room that she had come to love and her appreciation for Mrs. Hankle grew by the minute. Oh, how she would miss the kind woman! Without her, who knows where she would be. Would she have been caught and beaten until she could no longer move? She shuddered at the thought.

"Here, there is something that I want you to have," Mrs. Hankle fetched a small black box from her pocket and held it out to Alinah once they had made their way to the front door.

Mrs. Hankle attempted to conceal the gloom that had crossed her features at the thought of her new friend leaving. How she wished that she had had the money to support the two of them, so that she would never have to leave! The past week-and-a-half had given her companionship, and she felt as if Alinah had become her daughter, in a way.

Still, she was grateful to see that the young woman would secure a position far away from the dangers of her husband and that she could start anew. She could only hope that, in time, she would heal and learn to find happiness once again.

Alinah carefully took the box from her hands and opened it. Inside lay a small, beautiful golden necklace with a teardrop-shaped purple amethyst that glistened in the light. Her hand flew to her chest in awe. "I couldn't possibly..."

"Take it," Mrs. Hankle cooed gently. "As a reminder of how far you have come. And if ever you should feel your strength and courage waver, you can look at it and remember how strong and beautiful you are."

Alinah looked down and smiled, tears sprung to her eyes at the bittersweet parting. She carefully clasped the necklace around her neck and touched the gemstone with fondness. "You have done so much for me. I do not know how I can ever thank you enough."

"Nonsense, my dear! But you will be certain to write to me?"

Alinah nodded her head and the two exchanged an embrace before she stepped into the carriage.

"Never allow anyone to extinguish your light," Mrs. Hankle said before the carriage rode away.

Although Alinah had traveled for more than three hours in her lifetime, she felt that this particular journey had been the longest and most stressful. Minutes seemed like hours as she had grown anxious over her new home.

Would the master be kind? Would she be able to fulfill her duties? Would Walter ever find her?

Whenever the carriage had paused for a break, she could not bring herself to get out and stretch. She had been too worried about being seen by anyone who would know her husband, and so she had decided to stay inside.

She kept her eyes focused on the scenery through the window, as the desolate grassy fields that they had passed had become miles upon miles of trees. The foliage was so thick that it blocked out the majority of the sunlight, casting a dreary and dark ambience around them, and she grew nervous.

Not more than twenty minutes later, a large black iron gate could be seen, with a sign that read "Deberaux Estate", and once it had slowly creaked open, she could feel her pulse quicken and her heart flutter. Would she like her new home? Would the master be pleased with her?

The longer that the carriage rode down the long and winding driveway, the more nervous she was. Once it had come to a stop, she could swear that she could hear her heart pounding in her ears as she stepped out and made her way to the very large cherry-colored oak doors that towered above her.

She hadn't taken the time to observe her surroundings until then. The estate was very large and composed of a dark grey brick. Thick ivy crawled up the walls in an attempt to catch a glimpse of sunlight that had been hidden by the foliage of trees that surrounded the premises. One could completely bypass this place if they had not inspected the small parting of trees that led to the driveway, as it had been tucked inside a thicket of dark orange and red forest. This observation would be in her favor, as it would be that much harder for her location to be discovered.

Her legs were stiff and ached from the uncomfortableness of being cramped inside of a carriage for over three hours. She hoped that she would be able to stretch them out with a tour of the grounds soon.

After a few minutes of waiting had passed, the door opened. A man with dark grey hair and a singular silver strand tucked behind his ear appeared. He was very tall, wore a black suit with long coat-tails, and a white dress-shirt, and held his head high. His white gloves gave away his identity and she smiled at the Butler, whom she could only assume to be Mr. Harris.

"Ms. Claude, I presume?" he asked in a deep, monotone voice.

"Yes," Alinah responded, still holding her cloth sack in her arms.

He took a brief moment to inspect her with his dark brown eyes before he announced, "This way, please."

As Mr. Harris led her through the long passageways, she took note of the elaborate paintings, furnishings and gold decor around her. The house was enormous and quiet. She noticed that crimson velvet drapes adorned the windows in the rooms that she could sneak a glance into.

All-around, the estate had a dark and gloomy aura about it, and she wondered if she would find gargoyles perched on the rooftop. The thought made her almost giggle. Though she could see the visible thick layer of dust covering everything, she knew that the place would look simply exquisite and elegant, if filled with life and a bit of cleaning.

She couldn't help but wonder if there were any servants about, or if the master was gone. How long would it be before she met him? The place almost seemed abandoned.

They climbed a large staircase with golden rails that were embellished with carvings and curled into knobs at the very ends, and a long red velvet carpet that followed its length. At the top of the stairs, one could venture either left or right, and they went down the hall on the right, until they reached a small door.

"These shall be your living quarters," Mr. Harris announced. "Once you have settled down, you may accompany me in the foyer for an overview of your duties."

Before he had completely walked away from her, she asked, "Might I take a tour of the grounds?"

He stopped but didn't turn around to face her. "Perhaps later."

Sighing, she opened her door to see a room that was slightly larger than the room that she had occupied at Mrs. Hankle's, much to her surprise. Her bed was even larger, and looked very welcoming with its dark brown satin sheets and cherry-colored bedposts. A cherry-oak dressing table stood at the far corner of the room, and across from the bed there was a window that had been blocked by matching brown draperies. Two nightstands sat on either side of the bed, and on top of them were two candles that sat on golden candleholders.

She wondered if there were any other servants in the house, or even if her master had seen the servants' quarters. Why were they so elegantly decorated and large? She was only a maid! She had also noticed how well-dressed the butler had been, and because of his monotone and uninterested behavior, she could only guess that the reason that he had willingly remained employed at the Deberaux Estate was because of the amount of his salary.

She hoped that the generous accomodations for the servants reflected the personality of the Master of the House.

She folded her dresses and placed them in the dressing table before she glanced at herself in the tall standing mirror. Her hair that had been tightly wound on top of her head and some of her curls had come out, hanging loosely in her face and she had to repin it up. The bruises upon her neck had faded and the color in her skin had returned to normal.

Once she had joined Mr. Harris in the foyer, she glanced around and wondered again where the master had been. Next to him stood a plump woman who looked to be close to Alinah's age, with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes and light freckles that dusted her face. She was dressed in a plain grey dress and a white frock. Her hands were stained, as well as her clothes, with brown and white blotches.

"First of all, welcome," he stated very unenthusiastically. She didn't think that he was mean or unkind, but his personality was very dry and lifeless.

"Thank you," she responded softly.

"As I am certain you have guessed, I am Mr. Harris; Monsieur Deberaux's personal Butler. This is the Cook, Ms. Tulierre-"

"You may call me Elaine," the blonde woman interrupted. Alinah smiled in return at the woman's friendly appearance. At least she would not be the only woman in the house, and not everyone would be unwelcoming.

Judging by the appearance of only two people, Alinah knew that there were no other servants. An estate as large as this surprised her because of its lack of employees. She almost felt it a waste to have such wealth and luxuries, if the master did not appear to take advantage of its comforts through gatherings and parties, or even simply being in the rooms.

"The dining room is across the hall, but Monsieur Deberaux does not take his meals with company and prefers the privacy of his room," Mr. Harris explained.

Alinah noticed that he used the term 'Monsieur' for the second time, and she assumed that the master was French. What brought him to England, she wondered.

"The kitchen is around the corner and to the left; you will have to assist Ms. Tulierre with meals, occasionally."

Alinah's face lit up at his words. She had always enjoyed cooking. There was something about mixing spices and playing with ingredients that brought her delight as she attempted to create a new masterpiece.

Growing up, she had always loved to surprise her parents with a little treat that she had created herself. Once she had married, however; Walter had put an end to her joy. "My wife does not do the tasks of a servant! Is it always your intent to embarrass me?" he would shout at her.

"The upstairs west wing is the Master's quarters, and he does not ever wish to be disturbed. There is a small table outside of his room where you might place tea when he wishes it, but you must never enter his room. I cannot stress the importance of this," he eyed her to make certain that she was listening, and when he had determined that she was, he continued,

"You may peruse the property as much as you'd like, as long as your tasks are finished for the day and that you do not disturb the west wing. Your duties include cleaning and maintaining the order of each room-I am certain that you see why it is needed so badly, what with the dust and filth everywhere-, to prepare meals when needed, to bring Monsieur Deberaux his tea at exactly two o'clock every afternoon, to wash the linens and garments (you shall find a basin and needed supplies in the room at the end of this hall), and anything else that is required. Any questions?"

"Might I tend the gardens? I noticed that all of the flowers and rose bushes have withered away-"

"If everything else is taken care of, then you may do what you want with the gardens. Monsieur Deberaux rarely strolls them, if ever."

"When shall I meet the Master?" she questioned. She imagined what he would look like; tall (as most people were generally taller than herself, at the height of five foot four inches), most likely dark-haired, dark eyes and pehaps a thin, curled moustache. She imagined a deep voice that spoke with a thick accent.

"Only _I_ may have direct contact with Monsieur Deberaux. If he wishes to be seen, then he will make his presence known, though I find it highly unlikely."

Alinah knew that she would receive no answers from Mr. Harris, as he appeared unwilling to discuss the details of his Master's mysterious behavior, and so she nodded her head in understanding and spoke no more on the subject. She would ask Elaine later when she had the chance.

After she had been acquainted with her duties, Alinah was told that she could have the remainder of the afternoon to herself, as she was most likely tired from the journey and wished to become better acquainted with her surroundings. She took this opportunity to tour the gardens.


	3. Chapter 3

**Just wrote this last night...still needs a lot of work, and things will most likely change. Just wanted to get it out there. Please review! :)**

Ch. 3

After she had wandered around for a good hour or so, Alinah had come to the conclusion that the Deberaux Estate had once owned beautiful gardens and had entertained numerous guests of wealth and social rank. The rose bushes that had once surrounded a large fountain in the courtyard that was dirty and not in use, were now shriveled up in dry patches of brittle twigs. The shrubbery that enclosed the stone marble benches were overgrown and untouched.

Since it had been the end of Autumn and the air had become quite chilly, she decided that she would wait until the Spring to plant new flowers. She could imagine beautiful red and pink roses with vines that encircled the decorative stone fountain, and after she had cleaned and scrubbed it, she would let it run so that the trickling water would enhance its elegance.

She had wandered the long stretches of grass, enjoying the openness and rolling hills before she reached the outer edges of the forest that surrounded her on all three sides, with the estate to her back.

She pulled the black crochet shawl, the only one that she had and Mrs. Hankle had given her, around her shoulders to hide her arms from the stinging bite of the wind. The fresh and crisp air felt good on her face, so clean and refreshing that she did not mind when wisps of her hair had come out of its pins and softly tickled her skin.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of grass and leaves that had fallen. She stretched her arms out, not caring about the chill that brought gooseflesh to her arms, and she spun around and laughed; in that moment she felt the utter freedom and contentment of her newly-found home.

She was free; free to do as she pleased without the criticizing eyes of Walter, free to enjoy her time alone and to occupy herself with whatever she chose to at the end of the day.

Yes, she was alone and would most likely be without company for the majority of her time, but she could be entitled to whatever hopes and dreams that she chose, without the fear of being smothered or abused because of them. She would not have to be constantly reminded of her failures and her uselessness.

Feeling dizzy, she stumbled and fell on the soft grass beneath her, and she laughed at her silliness. She spread out on her back and stared up at the grey sky above her and watched the clouds slowly pass. She took in a deep breath and felt the cold air burn her lungs, but she didn't want to move.

Eventually, the sky began to get darker and she had decided that the warmth of a fireplace sounded wonderful to her cold skin, so she made her way back to the estate with a smile.

Little did she know that eyes had been watching her curiously from a window in the west wing.

"What is your opinion of Ms. Claude?" Erik asked his Butler. Mr. harris had just finished making Erik's bed and straightened up to look at his employer.

Erik looked a mess. Apart from his perfectly-placed white porcelain mask, his black pants were wrinkled, his white shirt unbuttoned and kinked, and he was in the process of combing out his messy hair. He rubbed his aching temples and sighed in frustration.

It had been two years since the destruction of the Opera Populaire, and he had first bought his estate so that he could be far away from the place that haunted his dreams, from the faces that painfully occupied his every thoughts. He had decided upon the house because of its concealed location and depressing atmosphere, fitting for sealing his fate inside of; cold and alone.

Not one night had gone by when he did not rehearse over and over again what he could have done differently, how foolish he had been to believe that Christine could ever come to love him, how he had destroyed the place that had housed his passion for music and theatre. It was all gone because of him; the only life that he had come to know.

He had not given up on his passion for music, no; for that was the one thing that would never leave or abandon him, in fact; he found that he could express his pain and misery through the notes of music as he angrily scribbled at his compositions every night. He would reread and replay the notes multiple times, obsessed with perfecting the one thing that he could control. Every note had to be just right. It would drive him insane for hours if he could not find the fitting piece to his work.

He had taken to drinking almost every night in order to soothe himself. He found that alcohol could take away his anguish and fill his heart with a numbness that allowed him to sleep at night. He was at once relieved with the calm feeling that washed over him with each drink, and his compositions seemed to flow easily, even if he couldn't always read them clearly.

The only thing he hated were the throbbing headaches that he had most mornings. He took the bowl of water that Mr. Harris had placed on the table before him and dipped the cloth into it before he patted the good side of his face with it in an attempt to ease the pain.

Although he had wanted to take off his mask so that he could wash his entire face-and the mask was very irritating on his skin-he would not do so in the presence of Mr. Harris. His best employee knew of his identity as the infamous Opera Ghost, and upon hiring him, he had bought his confidence and silenced him with a hefty salary.

Mr. Harris had never seen what was beneath the mask, nor did he care much to do so. He knew of the terrifying things that the Phantom of the Opera had accomplished, he knew of the tragic story of Madame De Chagny and the fire that destroyed the Opera House, but he had witnessed how Erik had drowned in self-loathing and despair ever since.

While he tried to maintain a neutral opinion of his employer, Mr. Harris had somewhat pitied his Master. He cared not what Erik had done in his past, for he could see the torn remnants of a man who took to drinking at night. His Master had always treated him kindly, if a bit reserved and very secluded. Who was he to question his Master's preferences or motives? His salary was more than he could ever hope for anywhere else.

"She is very timely and thorough with her duties," Mr. Harris responded, a bit proud to have found a suitable servant to his liking.

Erik thought back to three days ago, when he had witnessed her outside. He wondered why she had displayed such childish behavior when she twirled about and laid on the ground like a fool. "And she does not mind the solitude?"

He knew that the cook would not prove to be much company, as he had found her to be a grumbling hag. She often complained about not being able to see her Master herself and deemed it as "rude and ungentlemanlike behavior", but what had infuriorated her most was the fact that most of her prepared meals had remained cold on the table beside his door. How could he possibly eat when his very insides turned and ached at the thoughts that ceased to exist?

Not to mention that she was not a very good cook, and he often had Mr. Harris go to town to buy delicacies for him when he craved them. He had had quite the sweet tooth, and this was probably the only thing that saved him from becoming emaciated.

As he thought about the delicious creme-filled pastry that he had eaten that very morning, he suddenly wondered why he had kept Elaine as an employee. Perhaps he would fire her now that he had hired a new servant, he thought.

"No, she does not seem to mind the lack of company. She is very quiet and reserved, but I do believe that she is content."

_Content._ Erik scoffed at the word. How content would she be if she knew that her employer was the famous Opera Ghost and that he haunted these dark halls at night? He wanted to laugh bitterly as he imagined the twisted look of horror on her face if she were to see him.

Shaking the thought from his memory, he announced, "That is all," and dismissed Mr. Harris.

Sighing, he glanced at the clock that read one fifty-seven. Ah, tea would be brought to him by Ms. Claude, and perhaps he could catch a better glance at her, then. After all, he had only observed her from a distance, and he could only see that she had brown hair pulled tightly back from her face, but he did not know the color of her eyes, or more importantly; why she seemed so happy with herself. _And it irritated him._

Exactly three minutes later, he peered through a hole in his door to see that Ms. Claude had indeed been punctual. Her dainty cream-colored hands carefully balanced the silver tray that held his tea, and she slowly walked toward the table to set it down. Once her hands were free, she smoothed down her brunette hair that had been pinned up and wiped her hands on her apron.

He took a moment to observe her as she sighed. Her skin looked soft and flawless, her rosey-colored lips slightly parted, and her light blue eyes, he noticed, were the color of the grey sky on a cloudy day before a storm, and were hidden behind thick lashes. Her small frame was hugged with a plain light brown dress and apron. He could see the soft curves of her hips beneath the ties, and he mentally chided himself at taking notice.

Such a beautiful woman, he thought, and why a servant? Surely she would have found an eager suitor at her age.

And yet, he recalled that Mr. Harris had said that she had no attachments, obligations, or even family. She had come from a town a few hours away, and she had nothing to leave behind.

What confused him even more, however; was the way in which she hummed a song to herself and gently swayed to the music inside of her head as she turned around and walked down the hall, presumably to resume her chores. The jealousy of her happiness formed a lump in his throat, and he couldn't figure out why such a simple woman as herself would find delight in her circumstances. Wouldn't anyone else be miserable to be locked away and isolated in such a depressing place?

He couldn't decide if she was more of a nuisance to him that he wished never to see again, or a mystery that he wanted to unfold.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

"Have you ever seen Monsieur Deberaux?" Alinah asked Elaine as the two washed dishes in the kitchen. It had been one week since Alinah's arrival, and still she had not heard a word more about her missing Master. What did he do all day, locked up in that room, she wondered.

"No," Elaine shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing with her movement as she wiped a plate off. "Haven't heard a peep from him and, you know what? He doesn't like my cooking!" she whined.

Who would, Alinah thought to herself. She had seen the cold chicken only seasoned with salt and pepper that Elaine had prepared for dinner, and tasting it had been even worse. Even Alinah had lied and complained of feeling unwell so that she wouldn't be forced to eat the Cook's food.

"All day, I labor and toil for that man, and what do I get? Not even a 'thank you'!"

"But you do have a salary. That is reason enough," Alinah responded, drying a bowl and stacking it in the cupboard.

Elaine huffed in frustration and placed a hand on her hip, turning to look at Alinah.

"If you only knew how much I want to quit! I have grown tired of his excuses, of that ungrateful, cowardly, pathetic excuse-of-a-man and-"

"Then quit!" Mr. Harris' deep voice responded from the doorway. The two women jumped, startled, and turned to face him.

His expression was completely serious. "Ms. Tulierre, how many times have we discussed speaking about the Master in such a way? Still, you have not learned?"

"I do not understand why you dote on him so! Does he even exist? Have you seen him? I should say he is more a ghost than a man!"

Mr. Harris could not help but give a small ironic smile at her choice of words. If only she knew how much of a 'ghost' he really was!

"Ms. Tulierre, it is not your place to judge his preferences," Mr. Harris warned her.

"I just simply cannot understand why he locks himself up in his quarters all day, and why he cannot have the decency to say a word to me!" she complained.

"Elaine, I have warned you on multiple occasions not to speak in such a way. You have been released from your duties," the Butler announced.

Alinah found the situation to be very awkward, and so she turned around and resumed her task of drying the dishes. She didn't have to look at Elaine to see her anger; she could almost feel it flowing from her person.

"What?" Elaine shrieked. "I do my duties, do I not?"

"Yes, but you never cease to complain and to degrade the Master. It is very disrespectful of you," Mr. Harris replied.

He had been given permission to fire the Cook from Monsieur Deberaux that very morning, and he couldn't be happier to do so. It pricked at his nerves incessantly when he heard of his employer spoken of in such a way.

"Because I do not smile and hum to myself merrily like Alinah does? Would you wish me to skip about like a fool and pretend to love this dismal place? It is more a prison than a home!"

Alinah's gaze dropped to the floor from the sting of her comment. Did she really act foolish? She could only hope that Mr. Harris, or worse, the Master, had not noticed her behavior and deemed it unladyike. Would she, too, be released from her position?

"You may leave," Mr. Harris said.

Elaine could see the severity in his eyes and knew that she would not win. She stormed into her room to gather her belongings.

Before she had left, she stopped in the foyer and she decided to release her frustration on the new servant by throwing things about the room, knowing full-well that Alinah would have to clean it up.

Once Mr. Harris and Alinah had heard the breaking of glass and commotion, they quickly ran to the foyer to see Elaine drop a vase of flowers, the glass shattering into tiny pieces and the water covering the wooden floor.

"Ms. Tulierre, get out now!" Mr. Harris shouted angrily. The tone of his voice caused Alinah to cower against the wall in the passageway, and she gripped the knob of the stairway railing in fear.

She had never heard emotion in Mr. Harris' voice until now, and his loud voice utterly terrified her. It reminded her of the times when Walter would shout at her, but she reminded herself that she was not the reason for the Butler's anger.

She was thankful that she was not the one to receive his temper, as she watched Elaine stomp out of the foyer, past Mr. Harris.

"This is all _your_ fault!" she screamed, pointing to Alinah.

With one last huff, she turned around and slammed the front door behind her.

Mr. Harris immediately locked the door in case she would return, and Alinah's knuckles whitened from her tight grip on the rail. He turned around to see her frightened look, and he felt a small tug of pity at his heart.

"I do apologize, Ms. Claude. You have done nothing wrong," he assured her.

As if she had broken her trance-like state, Alinah straightened up, cleared her throat, and went into the foyer to clean up the mess that had been created.

Erik had watched the scene unfold at the top of the stairway. Rarely did he leave his room during the day, as the darkness of the night had made it easy to remain unseen, but he had heard the shouts and decided to watch from a distance. He knew that Elaine would be upsetted by the news, and he had thought that it would be entertaining to watch her reaction.

Never did he expect her to turn her frustrations onto Ms. Claude. He felt a bit of remorse as he watched Alinah, paralyzed in fear at the base of the stairs.

He almost wanted to follow her into the foyer, to assure her that he was pleased with her, as she had clearly been distressed.

Almost.

Instead, he turned around and walked back into his room, shutting the door and the world out behind him.

At two o'clock, the familiar ritual of bringing her master tea had resumed. Again, Erik watched her as she reached the top step and walked toward his door.

Except this time, he noticed that the tray in her hands was shaking and he could hear the 'clink, clink, clink!' of the teapot as she struggled to set it on the table.

Then he caught a glimpse of the bandage that had been wrapped around her left hand. She must have cut her hand on the broken glass, he thought to himself, and despite himself, he felt his anger begin to boil.

If only he had gotten rid of Ms. Tulierre sooner, before Alinah had come to his estate! How he wished to bring the former Cook harm because of what she had done!

He watched Alinah wince in pain, her pretty features twisted as she walked away.

His anger for the former Cook faded and was replaced with his own self-hatred. Why should he care about a mere servant-girl?

Instead of retrieving his tea that day, he stormed off to his desk and unscrewed the cap on his bottle of whiskey. Once he could hear the liquid being poured into his glass, he could already feel himself relax. He brought it to his lips and gulped it down quickly. Then he poured another glass and turned to his unfinished score that had kept him up all night.

This would be a long night, he thought dryly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Please review so that I know how to improve!**

Ch. 5

The next night, after Alinah had finished her chores for the day, she decided to peruse the library and to indulge herself in a book, cuddled up in a blanket next to the fire, until the clock had struck midnight.

She knew that Mr. Harris had long been asleep, leaving her alone. Her candle flickered and threatened to extinguish as it had almost reached the end of its wick.

Yawning, she put out the fire and lit another candle so that she could see her way up the stairs and to her room.

That night, sleep would not have her. She tossed and turned about, twisting the sheets around her legs in the process. She began to sweat, anxious with the restlessness of her mind and the thoughts that had consumed it.

Images of Walter's face had appeared in her dreams. His dark blonde hair, combed perfectly back, his caramel-brown colored eyes piercing into her very soul with their fiery gaze, his tall and well-built frame towering over her, crushing her to the wall painfully.

"You are nothing to me, do you hear? Nothing!" he would scream at her.

She gasped, and sat up quickly, feeling the wetness of her cheeks as tears stained her face. She felt a burning agitation in her veins that made her wrap a blanket around herself and leave the room.

She wrapped it tighter around her, as she had only been wearing a white nightgown, and she made her way quietly to the end of the west wing. She had discovered, just days earlier, a small spiral staircase that led to a tiny study room that had appeared to be unused, with a single door on the left side of it.

The door led to the rooftop, and she had enjoyed visiting it during the nights when she couldn't sleep. She would lay down on the empty space and watch the stars until she grew too tired to keep her eyes open. This was her little piece of paradise, she thought as she was awe-struck by the sheer beauty of the glowing orbs in the sky. So peaceful, so bright.

Erik's breath caught in his throat as he watched Alinah's form in the dark. She laid down on the ground and looked up at the sky. He could only guess that she had come out onto the rooftop for the same reason as himself; for the peace and quietness of the night.

His body tensed and he stood still, hoping that she would not notice him standing in the corner. One glance to the left, and she would spot him.

His mind raced with thoughts as he planned what he should do next.

If he was careful, he could quietly make his way to the entrance and escape. Or he could patiently wait until she left and hope that she was too tired to observe that she was not alone.

He let out the air that he held in his lungs slowly and carefully, not taking his eyes off of her to see if she would notice. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest that he was afraid that she would hear it.

Once he heard her muffled sobs in the cold night air, he felt the familiar pull of his heartstrings. He frowned as he heard her cry, and wondered if he had been the reason for her tears. Had she regretted coming to his estate? Did she wish to be free of this dismal hell, at last?

He could only assume that she had now pitied her circumstances, but once he heard her utter the name "Walter" softly into the air, his anger began to return. He could feel the jealousy spread through his chest.

This is utter foolishness, he thought to himself furiously. Why should he care what went on in Ms. Claude's life? He reasoned that he was still bitter about Christine's betrayal, and that this had simply reminded him of it.

Christine.

He thought back to the time when she had whispered the Comte de Chagny's name on the rooftop as they professed their love to one another. He would have given anything to hear her words of love in his own ears, to look into her deep brown eyes and confess of everything he felt for her, to feel her soft lips against his own.

The knife of bitter betrayal stabbed his heart once more as he was reminded of her love for that _boy; _that semblance of a man who could not appreciate her true talent, could not share the same musical soul that he had shared with Christine_._

His vision blurred with the tears that threatened to fall and he balled his fists in anger. This servant of his was preventing him from returning to his room and drowning his thoughts with liquor.

His anger dissipated when he heard her next words.

"Was I never good enough for you?"

Ashamed at his thoughts of rage toward her, he folded his hands in silence and attempted to calm down.

He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her. Had she been the victim of a cruel betrayal such as himself?

Before he could ponder it much longer, she stood up and returned inside. Once gone, he had lost his desire to return to his room, and all he could do was stare at the spot where she had laid.

The more that he had observed her, the more confused and upset he found himself.

The next day, Alinah had found herself very tired and worn-out.

She had managed the task of cooking herself, and that night she had prepared a beef stew that she simmered in red wine. She could not help but sigh with joy once she had smelled the spices and had tasted it, deciding how much more salt it needed. She stooped over the large tin pot and brushed the remaining granules of salt from her hand.

She jumped when she heard Mr. Harris behind her.

"Monsieur Deberaux wishes for you to know that he is pleased with your cooking," he announced.

Although the Butler would never admit it, he had had a second helping of the delicious baked turkey for lunch, himself. Never had Elaine cooked something so tasty, and the more time that he had spent observing Ms. Claude's work, the prouder he had become of his choice.

Alinah bowed her head politely and could not prevent the large grin that had crept up onto her face.

"That is all," Mr. Harris added before he left her.

Alinah clapped her hands enthusiastically. Not only was she pleased to know that she had done well in her employer's eyes, but also that her talent had not gone to waste. Now she had felt at liberty to create the most wonderful dishes that one could imagine.

She would prepare anything that she wanted; the kitchen belonged only to her! She smiled at the thought. Oh, the possibilities!

As she brought a bowl of stew and a plate of bread upstairs, careful not to let it spill, she noticed that the tray from lunch time had been completely empty; not even a breadcrumb had remained.

She set the new tray down and watched the steam rise from the bowl with pleasure.

Erik could see the rosy glow to her cheeks and the smile that lingered, brightening her eyes.

How he envied the look of happiness on her face. How could she find such delight in simple, small and meaningless things?

Half of him wanted to smirk, allowing the pride of being the reason for the smile on her face to consume him, but the other half; the drunken and angry half, scoured at her from behind the door.

He cursed under his breath and staggered back to his desk. He poured the last few drops of whisky into his mouth and slammed the bottle back down.

Useless, he thought to himself, I am utterly useless! Why could I not bring such a smile to Christine's face for so little a reason?

He began to sweat and wiped away the beads that clung to his forehead. What a pathetic life he lived! Was his torment never to end?

He thought about Alinah again, and the way that her smooth lips had curved upward with a grin, then he thought about his own miserable state of life. Hardly a life at all, he thought.

How he wanted to show her what true horror was; he wanted to rip off his mask and listen to her scream and beg for mercy. No one could possibly be so happy while in the presence of the Phantom of the Opera!

And yet, he could not bear to endure the look of repulsion that would cross her sweet features. Not again. Not ever.

No, for his face was the shackles that bound his fate and life to shame and confinement, and his mask was the key that forever locked it.

He would never feel the warmth of the sun upon his skin, he would never enjoy the company of society around him, let alone human companionship, and he would never know what it was like to kiss the lips of a woman who would stay by his side.

He buried his face in his hands and pulled at his hair in frustration, allowing the tears to fall. He was a monster, and he deserved no better.

One more time of seeing his face in the mirror, one more time of seing the peace and solace, that he yearned to have himself, on the face of a simple servant-girl, one more night of agony and sleeplessness, and he would certainly go insane.

This has to end tonight, he thought.

Sighing, Alinah glanced at the clock and noticed that it was nine o'clock in the evening. Her duties were done for the day, and she hung up her apron on a hook in the kitchen before walking up the stairs to her room.

Meanwhile, Erik stood on the ledge of the rooftop and stared down at the ground below. He felt the cold wind like pin-pricks against his face and he inhaled sharply. He could smell the alcohol on his own breath and the tears that trailed down his cheek.

His balance teetered from the impairment of his senses and he smirked bitterly at the thought of ending his miserable existence. Only a moment or two longer, and he would never have to feel pain again. He would never have to remember the frightened look in Christine's eyes when she had seen his face, the screams and cries of the audience when she had ripped away his mask. He would never have to watch her walk away from him, with her lover by her side, each night in his dreams.

He cursed the day that he was born; miserable and pathetic. What a waste of air and life he was!

The bitterness in his heart increased as he thought of how alone he was. No one would miss him, no one would mourn his death. There would be no funeral.

A fitting end to my worthless existence, he thought. He could allow his mind to be tormented no longer. This was it.


	6. Chapter 6

**I literally just finished writing this a few minutes ago. It's just an outline of what it will be eventually.**

**Please rate.**

Ch. 6

"Don't!"

That one word startled him and he slowly turned around to see her.

Alinah stood mere feet away from him, with her black shawl draped around her shoulders and concern written across her features. She watched him cautiously, afraid of angering him further or causing him to jump.

"Please," she pleaded softly, her expression saddened. "Take my hand."

Erik glanced at her outstretched fingers, confused. Was he dreaming? Her fingers so dainty, so welcoming, and her face was so soft and sweet. He could not imagine that she was real.

Alinah could smell the whiskey drifting in the air, and her eyes roamed his face. One side, the left side, was handsome with strong masculine features, while the right was covered with a white mask. She was curious as to what lay beneath it, and she knew immediately that it had been the reason for his confinement.

Whatever it was that had plagued him, she could feel the tears form in her eyes as she thought about it. How awful his life must have been for him to feel the need to hide away, and now to end his life!

She, too, had contemplated ending hers once, and she could sympathize with the emotions that she knew he was feeling.

"Please," she repeated kindly, "It doesn't have to come to this. I can help you."

He scoffed at her comment and frowned. How could _she_ help him? One could not know the pain that he experienced.

Though his vision was blurred by tears and the impediments of alcohol, Erik glanced up at her in disbelief.

"You do not know me, you do not know who I am!" he shouted, slurring his words.

"But I wish to know you. Please, come down," she urged, taking another step closer.

"Go back to bed," Erik rasped, turning back to look at the forest beneath him.

The urge to rip off his mask and to send her screaming and running away so that she would leave him alone increased with each ragged breath that he took.

But something held him back. As drunk and irrational as he was at that moment, he could not bring himself to do it. All that he wanted to do right then and there was to turn around to look into her blue eyes once more and to know what it was like to feel her hand in his, which only confused and angered him even more.

Foolish, he thought, you never learn!

"I am afraid that I cannot leave you like this," she said. "Please, if you never wish to see me again, then I shall not pry further. I shall pretend that this never happened and resume my responsibilities. But I cannot leave you here."

Erik closed his eyes and wished that his head would stop spinning. When the wind blew once again in his direction, he could smell her scent; a mixture of vanilla and almond. He inhaled the sweet aroma and sighed deeply.

If this had been a dream, he would walk up to her and wrap his arms around her waist. He would let down her soft brown curls and run his fingers through them, feeling how soft they were and inhaling her scent. Then, he would bend down to place a soft kiss on her lips and-

He shook his head angrily from his thoughts. After moments of silence, she added,

"I know how you feel, but I promise you that it will get better."

This time, he laughed in her face.

"How can _you_ possibly know how I feel? Do you know what it is like to be constantly reminded of something so agonizing, every waking moment, day after day, until it drives you to madness?"

He bit his lip and regretted his rambling. What difference did it make if she was there or not? He would not let anything get in his way.

"Yes," she whispered, so softly that he almost didn't hear it.

Once the moonlight had been revealed by the clouds, he noticed the glimmering of tears that rolled down her cheeks, and despite his better judgement, he felt a bit of remorse for his harsh behavior towards her.

"Monsieur Deberaux," she whispered, inching closer to him, "I beg you..."

The tenderness and warmth in her voice drew him to her, and he found that he was at a complete loss as to what to do or think.

He jumped slightly when he felt her touch on his arm. She almost seemed to burn him, but he couldn't pull away as she carefully led him back to the door.

They paused at the entrance and she looked up at him to read his expression, her hand still on his arm and her face merely inches away from his. She could feel his breath on her cheeks. His green eyes pierced through her and made her pulse quicken, but she couldn't discern the emotion that lay behind them.

He blinked the tears away and broke their gaze.

"Goodnight," he muttered angrily before he stormed past her and went inside.

"Goodnight," she whispered to the empty air.

Alinah didn't know how long she had stared up at the stars that night. Perhaps two, maybe three hours? Her cheeks burned from the frozen wind and her lips quivered as she watched the steam from her breath linger in the air.

But all that she could think about was him. How striking his eyes were, and how much emotion they held. So much pain and anguish that she never wished to see in someone again.

It reminded her of how she had often felt.

After her fingers and toes had become numb, she finally pulled herself together and stood up. Her body ached and her mind was clouded with fatigue.

It was only after she heard the music that eminated from his room that she could feel more at ease. She knew that he would probably be up all night, but at least he was relieving himself through music instead of self-harm.

Many times when she had heard the mysterious piano-playing, she would stop and listen. She would close her eyes and imagine strong, lean fingers quickly dancing along the keys. She had never heard sounds so beautiful in her life, and much to her embarrassment, Mr. Harris had caught her standing in the hall like a fool a few times.

But tonight, the music sounded violent and angry and would slow at times to a sad melody. Tears ran down her cheeks as she quickly walked past his door, unwilling to listen longer than she needed to.

His music made her feel all of the emotions that she had tried so desperately to contain and extinguish, and the look on his face that night had reflected the fragile state of her broken heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Just finished this late last night. Subject to change.**

**A special thanks to michellecarriveau for leaving the first review!**

**It would make me oh-so-happy if someone left a review :)**

Ch. 7

It was eleven o'clock in the morning before Alinah had woken up. Her eyes fluttered open and she yawned, stretching her arms and legs out on the silky bed. A dull ache occupied her head, most likely from the lack of sleep.

The image of her master's face filled her thoughts, and she immediately sat up in bed as she remembered what had happened. She hoped that he had forgotten the experience and reasoned that he had not come to his senses last night because of the alcohol. Perhaps he wouldn't even remember that it had happened.

Or maybe he would be even more infuriated.

Once she had seen the time, the uneasiness in her stomach had only increased. She jumped out of bed and flew to her dressing table, almost falling in the process. She grabbed her clean dress and rushed to put it on. Her hands trembled so badly that she could barely tie the laces. She ran over to the mirror and combed out her hair as quickly as she could before she pinned it up as best as she would be able to with shaking fingers. She wiped away the strands that fell in her face.

She looked a mess. Dark circles lined her eyes, which were still slightly swollen from her tears from the night before. Stray hair dangled in her face, and she had a wild look about her, almost as if she had slept in the wilderness for weeks.

If Monsieur Deberaux had not already been awake and waiting to fire her, then certainly Mr. Harris would be sure to do so, upon noticing her absence.

She swore under her breath and threw her door open, racing down the hallway as fast as she could. She was stopped when she met Mr. Harris at the top of the stairs.

"Ah, Ms. Claude," he said plainly. His usual lack of emotion prevented her from determining whether or not she still had employment, and the suspense made her stomach twist in knots.

She straightened up as best as she could. "Mr. Harris, I do apologize for my lateness," she curtsied politely. She couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes, afraid of what she would see there, if anything.

"Monsieur has awoken hours ago."

Alinah wanted to hide her face from the Butler and cry. Her place of safety would be torn away from her and she would be forced to seek a position elsewhere, she knew of it.

She bit her lip and swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping that the tears that swelled in her eyes and threatened to fall wouldn't betray her.

"He has ordered that you spend the day at your leisure," he announced.

Alinah looked up at him, shocked. "You mean to say that I am still employed here?"

"Yes, why wouldn't you be?" he responded, uncertain of her meaning. He had no idea what had transpired to result in his Master's and Ms. Claude's odd behavior, but he was not one to question it.

"Thank you!" she shrieked, wiping away her tears with clumsy fingers. How foolish she must have seemed!

She gave another short curtsy and made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, leaving behind a bewildered Mr. Harris.

Alinah knew that she was free of her duties that day and could enjoy it however she wished, and that was why one could find her in the kitchen for approximately two hours.

Her white apron was stained, strands of her hair fell messily out of the pins, and a dumb grin was formed on her lips as she took her creation out of the oven. The scent of chocolate filled the air and she breathed it in with a sigh.

She had spent the past few hours baking a flourless chocolate truffle cake that made her mouth water at the sight. She set the pan on a rack to cool and stirred the pot of chocolate raspberry sauce on the stove. She brought a small spoonful up to her lips, blew on it to cool it down, and then tasted it.

"Mmmm!" she exclaimed very loudly to herself. Perfect, she thought. She resisted the urge to sample another spoonful and tended to the cake instead.

Once it had cooled, she cut a small piece and placed it on a plate carefully, so that it would maintain its form. She chose a particular piece of china that had golden edges on it to complete the look. Once she had maneuvered the morsel to the center, she fetched the pot of sauce and stirred it one last time. She poured some of it over the top of the slice of cake and decorated the plate with chocolate designs and raspberries.

"Finished!" she announced happily.

Monsieur Deberaux had given her the day to herself, something that pleased her so greatly that she had wanted to return the favor. She knew that he was not one to be in the presence of others, and she could only imagine how difficult it must have been for him when she had intruded into his personal life. Granted, it had been for a good cause, she reasoned, as she would never wish harm to anyone, but she had taken great liberties with him, nevertheless. She could only hope that the treat would help to comfort him, and might even bring a bit of delight to his broken heart.

After all, whenever she had felt so poor and miserable, she could always say that chocolate made her feel a little bit better.

She smiled to herself as she removed her apron and picked up the plate. As she climbed the stairs, she prayed that he would enjoy her small token of appreciation.

Instead of placing the plate on the table and walking away, she mustered up the courage to knock on his door. She did not expect a reply, or perhaps she expected to be met with a silent indifference. Or maybe his head ached and he had fallen asleep again. She really didn't know what to expect, and more importantly, she was confused.

Why did she become so bold as to knock on his door? She knew that disturbing him was strictly forbidden, and that he wished to be seen by no one. She bit her lip and silently reprimanded herself. She wished that she could reverse time, but she knew that she couldn't, so instead she hoped that he had not heard her.

She quietly turned toward the table and set the plate down, hoping that by the time he would open the door, she would be gone.

When she had stood up, she was startled by the pair of green eyes that had been watching her every move with an anger that almost burned a hole through her.

Monsieur Deberaux stood with the door only partly opened, exposing his wrinkled clothes. Despite his disheveled appearance, she noticed that his mask had been perfectly in place, and his hair had been sleeked back.

"I'm s-sorry," she stuttered when he had not said anything. She heard him take a deep breath and she could see his hand curl into a fist.

"What gives you the right to disturb me?" he questioned through gritted teeth.

How idiotic she was to think that he would be any friendlier with her after the previous night!

"I-I wanted to give you this," she gestured toward the dessert beside her.

Erik saw the fear in her eyes, which only angered him more. He had been in the middle of finishing a composition, and to be interrupted by a frivolous girl who baked pastries and hummed to herself when no one else was around had made his blood boil.

Had she nothing better to do than to disrupt him? Did she suddenly think that they had bonded because he had been drunk the night before, or did she merely pity his worthless existence?

He eyed the chocolate dessert before him with contempt.

She is toying with me, he had concluded.

"I made it for you," she added softly.

"For me..." he sneered, unwilling to believe her. What motive did she have to do such a thing? "Were you not aware that you are never to disturb me?" he seethed, inching closer to her slowly.

The fierce gaze he held had frozen her in fear, and she cowered beneath his towering figure. He smirked when he had cornered her to the wall, enjoying the look of intimidation on her face. She could not bring her blue eyes to meet him, and he noticed that her lip trembled.

"Yes," she mumbled, her voice cracking.

"Then why did you disobey me?" his voice was now in a low growl. He smiled wickedly when he had seen her flinch. Perhaps this would teach her to stay away from him!

She was nothing more than a Temptress, teasing him with what he couldn't have. She would show him mock kindness and feign innocence, she wished to win his heart through lies and deceit, only to violently rip it away, just as Christine had. It was nothing but a game to her.

He would not fall for a woman's snares ever again!

"Please don't hurt me!" she begged, tears rolling down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed uncontrollably. "I couldn't bear it again..."

Erik took a step back, startled by her display of emotion.

Hurt her? Why would he ever do such a thing?

Yes, he was upset with her, and he wanted to be rid of her more than anything else, but he would never harm a woman. Had she truly been that afraid of him? Perhaps that had been her motive for kindness all along; so that she would not upset him and suffer his wrath.

Fear was the only thing that urged Christine to kiss him; fear for her fiance's fate. Not love, or kindness. She had been terrified of him and what he would do, just as everyone had been terrified by his abhorrence of a face. Throughout his existence at the Opera Populaire, he had to threaten those around him in order to obtain what he wanted.

How could he expect this girl before him to be any different?

"Please..." she whispered helplessly.

For a moment, he frowned with sadness and wished to assure her that he would bring her no harm. Instead, he stormed back into his room and slammed the door.

He would never be anything more than a monster.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Moondancer...aw, thanks! This will definitely not be a Mary-Sue and though it may seem predictable with a villain who she's escaped from, I promise that it won't be!**

**Anyway, here is chapter 8, hot off the press and finished only minutes ago! Enjoy!**

Ch. 8

Alinah cried until her eyes could no longer form tears. How unfair it was that she had made such a kind gesture, only for him to find a reason to be upset with her!

Miserable, ungrateful, stubborn man that he is, she thought in anger. Was he never to be pleased with anything in his life?

And yet, she felt that she could not stay upset with him for long, when her thoughts had reverted back to the mask that he wore. Whatever it was that it had kept hidden was the reason for his bitterness and hate. She tried to assure herself that it had been nothing personal, and that it was not her fault, even though the feelings of self-blame had crept into her heart. All of her life, she had felt that she had failed everyone miserably, and that nothing she did would ever be good enough.

Again, she imagined what lay beneath the porcelain facade. Had he been burned in a terrible fire? Had he deep scars that disfigured his face?

She imagined what it would have been like if she had a secret as painful and dark as his. Would she not have reacted the same way in self-defense? No doubt, the world had been cruel to him, all because of something so superficial as vanity. She could only imagine how it must have rubbed down his self-esteem until it was raw.

She did not know what he hid, but she knew that it did not matter. After all, physical appearance was not what made a person who they were; she had learned that from her husband. He had been one of the most handsome men that she had ever laid eyes on, yet she had endured so much suffering at his hands. One could not judge the true character of a person based on his face.

Men like Walter were the true monsters, and she only sobbed more when she thought of how ill-treated her Master must have been to have become so violent in temper.

Still, it did not excuse his unkind behavior towards her. She had done nothing to warrant his anger, after all; she had only tried to thank him.

After she could no longer keep her eyes open, she found her mind become blank; too tired to think, and she fell asleep.

Erik paced his room anxiously. His anger had greatly subsided into a dull, annoying sensation that nagged at the back of his mind.

Were his instructions not simple enough for her to follow? Still, she insisted on prying further into his life, still she had not given him the peace and quiet that he had deserved and demanded. She was unwelcome, but that didn't seem to stop her from trying.

For a brief moment, he had regretted ever agreeing to an ad in the paper for a new servant. It had been Mr. Harris' idea all along, as he had claimed that Elaine was not capable of doing all of the housework alone. He had also promised privacy and that, rest assured, Erik would not be disturbed by anyone. Because Elaine had been employed at his estate for over a year and had not yet seen him, he trusted that this new servant would be no different. And look what had happened!

How he wished that Alinah would go back to where she came from and leave him alone! She had been tampering with the fate that he had sealed himself in, disturbing the life of solitude that he had come to terms with.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair and sat down on the edge of his bed. He was much too agitated to sit down in one spot for long, and he gritted his teeth when he had glanced at his unfinished score on his desk. The fresh ink had bled a large, black spot in the middle of the paper.

This is hopeless, he thought, she is ruining everything! Why can she not do her chores and keep silent?

To make matters worse, his bottle of whiskey was completely empty. Once he had noticed this, he immediately rang the bell for Mr. Harris, who had arrived at his door shortly thereafter.

"Run to town and purchase more of this," Erik ordered, shoving the empty bottle into the Butler's hand.

"Yes, Monsieur," he replied, bowing politely before he left.

As Erik watched him walk down the stairs, he could see the piece of chocolate cake from the corner of his eye. His fingertips tingled with irritancy, and he felt the urge to stretch, to throw something, to busy himself; anything to take his mind off of how annoying he had found the girl to be.

He glanced back over to the plate on his table and glared at the dessert, wishing that it would simply vanish so that he would not have to be reminded of her.

"Fine!" he mumbled to himself, grabbing the plate and slamming the door behind him in his room.

He sat down at his desk and set the plate in front of him, eyeing it cautiously. How long had it taken her to bake this, he wondered. Did she try any? Had she poisoned it?

He tried to clear his head of his thoughts, but his mind kept racing.

He would eat the chocolate cake. He would pick up his fork, he would take a few bites until it was gone, and he would be done. Isn't that what she had wanted? He could almost hear her urging him on in his mind, nagging her, until he would go insane from guilt.

Once he had taken a bite of the soft and sweet morsel, letting it melt in his mouth, a warm and calm feeling spread through his body. With each bite that he took, he could feel the tension in his shoulders slowly escape.

When he had eaten all of it and scraped the remaining drizzled chocolate off of the plate, he had to admit that he was a bit disappointed that there wasn't more.

Setting the plate aside, he turned to his composition, took out a new piece of paper, and began to write again.

At around midnight, Alinah had woken from her sleep with restlessness. She had fallen asleep in her light green day dress which was now wrinkled, and had not bothered to change when she went downstairs.

The house was dark and quiet, and she could hear no music coming from her master's bedroom.

Perhaps he is asleep, she thought to herself.

Once in the foyer, she lit a fire and poked it to warm herself. She noticed that the room had been chillier than the night before, and she cursed the thought of Winter fast approaching.

When the fire had become a steady blaze and she could see the majority of the room, she chose a book to read and sat down on the divan. Two hours later, she had fallen asleep again and the book tumbled to the floor.

After Erik had completed his score, he found that he had no desire to sleep. Mr. Harris had returned with more whiskey hours ago, and he opened a bottle in hopes that it would help him relax.

He unbuttoned his shirt and poured himself a glass, propping his feet up on the desk as he did so. Tilting his head back, he drank the liquid and peered out through his window at the moon.

So bright and beautiful, he thought. Why could he not be as serene and peaceful as the moon in the night sky?

He drank another glass and stared at the sky for another ten minutes before he had decided that he would take a walk. He set his glass down, replaced the mask that had been lying a few feet away from him, and lit a small candle to see.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, however; he noticed the orange haze eminating from the foyer.

Perhaps Mr. Harris cannot sleep, he figured.

Due to habit, he stepped light enough that he could not be heard, and he thought that if Mr. Harris would catch a glimpse of him, he might be frightened. On many occasions, the Butler had not expected Erik to appear, and the thought of him being startled made Erik want to laugh.

The smile faded from his face when he saw Alinah lying on the couch instead. Her eyes were closed and she was definitely still asleep, and he sighed a breath of relief when he had noticed this.

"Please..." she pleaded softly, causing Erik to freeze in place. Had she heard him? Impossible! He had made certain not to step on any floorboards that creaked. "Walter..."

He watched her face contort and twist in pain; her arm twitched.

"Not...my...fault! Let go!" she yelled. He could see her brows furrow in pain and her chest rise and fall with her shallow breaths. "Don't hurt me, Walter!"

Though Erik wanted so desperately to pretend that he hadn't seen her and to walk away as if nothing had happened, he found that he was paralyzed and could not pick up his foot to leave. Despite himself, he felt that he couldn't see her in pain, haunted by her dreams, and to abandon her in such a state.

He knew very well what nightmares were like, and a chill swept down his spine as he thought of the numerous times that he had been trapped in his own mind during sleep.

He became alarmed when she started to gasp and almost choke out her breaths. She gripped the divan, her fingers digging into the fabric as she hyperventilated.

When he could swear that her face became paler, he rushed into the room and set down his candle on a nearby table. He glanced at her heaving body, uncertain of what to do.

"Alinah!" he called out to her. "Wake up!"

She did not seem to hear him. Instead, she continued to writhe in sweat and she began to cough.

He bent down and took a firm hold of her shoulders, pulling her up and shaking her gently. "Alinah!"

Once her eyes had fluttered open, she quickly searched the room around her to remind herself where she was, until her gaze settled on Erik's half-masked face.

She looked up at him with wide, glossy eyes and he fought the urge to throw her back down on the divan and to leave her there. The look in her eyes had been the very same expression that Christine had held right after she had ripped his mask away.

He had to mentally remind himself that his mask was still on, and that Alinah had just woken from a nightmare. Still, as the tears slid down her cheeks, he wondered to himself if he had only made things worse. He could see her exposed vulnerability, and she could not hide her fear of him any longer.

Feeling his temper rising, he released his grip on her and stood up. He should have known that the Phantom of the Opera would not be the most comforting sight to set eyes on, upon waking up.

His nostrils flared as he thought of the weak and pathetic girl before him. He should have expected as much from her. As he turned on his heel, she called out,

"Don't leave me, Monsieur!"

He slowly turned to face her and the look of fear had been replaced by a hollow and broken gaze that plagued his heart with guilt.

"I do not feel safe," she admitted. She fumbled with her fingers and waited for a response.

"From me?" he questioned, feeling the sting of her words.

She ignored him and added, "I am afraid that he will find me."

Once Erik had realized that he was not the person whom she spoke of, he calmed down. He hesitated before he sat down on the divan opposite of her. A small cherry-colored oak coffee table stood between them, and he was grateful of this, as he was at a loss as to how to comfort her.

"It was only a dream; it wasn't real," he murmered softly, propping his elbows up on his knees and folding his hands out before him. He watched her with observing eyes.

"But he will find me. He will hunt me down."

Was it sorrow that Erik had felt at her words? Although he couldn't admit it, he felt sad as he thought of what she might have endured with this man, and the urge to shelter and protect this innocent woman before him became stronger.

He would never wish for someone to suffer by the hands of violence, as he himself had.

"He will not discover where you are. You are safe here," he replied. He wanted to say, _I will not let him find you_, but he thought of how foolish it had sounded in his mind and decided against it.

Alinah nodded her head, reassured by her master's confidence, and she wiped her tears away. She could feel sleep tugging at her eyelids, making them too heavy to resist closing, but her mind was too alarmed to rest.

A silence passed between them as Erik watched her stubbornly try to fight her fatigue. He knew that she would be too weak to walk back to her room.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, yawning. She couldn't even open her eyes to look at him.

He bit his lip and let out a sigh of frustration. How did she always find a way to crawl under his skin without any escape?

"Just until I fall asleep..." she added, her voice soft and pleading but barely above a whisper.

Curse her, he thought. She knew how to say it in a way that he couldn't refuse. He knew that he would definitely not be able to sleep that night if he were to leave her in the fragile condition that she was in. His conscience would be weighed down with guilt.

He reasoned that it was what he would have wanted whenever his mind had plagued him with the demons of his sleep; someone to assure him that everything would be okay. His understanding what it felt like was his only motive, and nothing more.

"Alright," he responded. He leaned back against the couch, with one leg folded against his thigh and his hands in his lap, as he watched the steady rhythm of her breaths that eventually slowed and deepened.

The last thing he remembered seeing was the small smile that tugged at her lips as the light from the fire danced across them, and then all had faded into the abyss of his sleeping mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**10/3/13: I rewrote this chapter and split it up, so please re-read this if you read Chapter 9 before this date. Thanks!**

Ch. 9

The next morning, Alinah had risen early with the intent of making breakfast. She slowly stood up and smoothed out her wrinkled dress as best as she could, casting a glance at Erik's sleeping form on the divan.

How peaceful he looked as he slept, she thought. The harsh and angry lines in his face had melted into a relaxed state of rest.

She took a moment to pause as her eyes searched the good side of his face. Such a strong jawline, lips that she knew would be soft, and she remembered how striking the color of his eyes were, so rich with emotion. She concluded that if it hadn't been for the masked side of his face, he would be the most handsome man that she had ever laid eyes upon, even more so than Walter in their days of courtship.

During the night, Erik had tossed and turned from the uncomfortableness of his makeshift bed. His clothes were wrinkled, one pant leg had been creased upward and exposed part of his leg, and his hair was a mess. She bit her lip and blushed when she noticed that his shirt was no longer tucked in and had been unbuttoned down to the middle.

Her gaze roamed to his white half-mask and she inhaled sharply at what she saw.

It had still remained in place, but he had managed to bump it in his sleep, leaving it slightly crooked, but just enough for her to catch a sliver of a glimpse of what lay beneath it.

His mask was tilted to the right, and at the top of his hairline, she could see a small corner where his hair had begun to thin out. At the bottom of his jaw, just below his ear, she saw a patch of red, irritated skin the size of a small coin. Not exactly enough for her to get a good look at it, but just enough that she had an idea.

And her heart went out to him.

She did not wish to stare long, afraid that he would wake up at any minute. She shuttered at the thought of his reaction once he had realized what she had seen, and she quietly went over to the fireplace to busy herself and pretend that she had seen nothing.

She lit a fire and blew on it, anxious to warm the room up. The air was very cold, and she could see that frost had etched itslef onto the window panes, climbing up the glass and resembling overgrown vines. She knew that her Master had to be freezing with his shirt hung open, and the urge to cover him with a blanket had been strong, but she knew better than to wake him. No doubt, he would not appreciate the gesture, anyway.

Once the fire was ablaze, she sighed with relief and quickly rubbed the chilled skin of her arms, hoping to bring some warmth to them.

She quietly tip-toed her way to the kitchen and threw some wood into the stove before she heated it up. She glanced around the room, wondering what she should make.

Once she had decided on brioche, and was kneading the dough, she happened to look out through the window to see a thick, white blanket of snow covering the ground.

Alinah had always enjoyed the beauty of Winter, and she loved to watch the light, feathery snowflakes fall from the grey sky, and then envelop everything around her in a glimmering sheet of powder. She also loved the comfort of a warm fire with a blanket wrapped tightly around her, as she enjoyed a bowl of soup or a cup of hot drinking chocolate.

But on the other hand, she couldn't stand the cold. She became cold very easily, and if there was no fire lit in every room, then her teeth would begin to chatter.

As she rolled out the dough and formed it, she brushed a stray hair out of her face with the back of her hand and in the process, had smeared a large streak of white flour across her forehead.

Once she had braided the mixture and set it in the oven to bake, she decided that she would wash up and change clothes. Before she reached the stairs, however; she peered into the foyer to see that Monsieur Deberaux was still sleeping.

The scent of sweet bread filled the air as Erik slowly opened his eyes. Sitting up, he looked around him to see that he had fallen asleep on the divan in the foyer, and the cramp in his neck had proved it.

He saw that the clock read fifteen minutes past nine o'clock and he rubbed his aching neck. Memories of the nightmare that Alinah had had and how he had agreed to stay with her until she had fallen asleep filled his mind and he suddenly wondered where she was. He noticed that the fireplace had been relit, and he glanced nervously about the room.

"Good morning!" she piped cheerfully in the doorway, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin.

How ironic, he thought dryly, someone has managed to startle the Opera Ghost.

As soon as this thought had left his mind, he suddenly became very fearful and wondered where his mask was. He searched about him frantically, hoping that she hadn't noticed his despair.

His hand instantly flew up to his face and once he had felt the cold, hard surface of the mask, he breathed a sigh of relief. Still, he could not help but to feel self-conscious in the situation that he had now found himself in.

How he wished that he had returned to his room last night!

Alinah had changed into her light brown dress and her hair had been neatly pinned back up. Her face glowed with excitement as she made her way back to the kitchen.

Erik, still suffering from the after-effects of waking up, did not register the food that had been placed in front of him until something small and white had caught his eye.

He picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it.

"Dear Monsieur,

Thank you for your kindness to me. Please enjoy this token of my gratitude.

Signed,

Alinah."

He looked down at the plates of fruit and warm brioche, fresh from the oven and still steaming. He also noticed the tea tray that had already been placed next to him, and he frowned when she had returned.

"What is this?" he questioned, groaning inwardly. Could this woman not understand his need for privacy, or did she enjoy grating on his nerves incessantly?

"Breakfast," she replied casually. She calmly poured a cup of tea, carrying on as if nothing was out of sorts.

Noticing the smile that she had tried desperately to conceal, he glanced down at himself and saw what she had been staring at. Immediately, his fingers fumbled to button up his shirt in order to save whatever shred of composure that he could.

He saw her eyes look at his head, and he smoothed down his hair and mumbled something profane that wasn't loud enough for her to hear.

This is all her fault, he thought miserably.

Feeling too embarrassed and uncomfortable to sit, he quickly stood up.

"As you already know," he shot her a deadly glare with his words, "I take my meals in my room."

She blinked at him with those bright blue eyes of hers.

"Alone," he hissed.

Alinah folded a napkin in her lap, and her calm indifference to his threatening tone of voice only increased his agitation. Why was she not frightened by him? Why could he not scare her away permanently, as he had already done so to everyone else? She was like a stubborn boulder that could not be moved, and his inability to intimidate her angered him.

"But you are not in your room, and I thought that perhaps you might have an appetite," she stated.

He watched her small hands as she poured another cup of the hot liquid, and he knew that it was meant for him. This woman knew exactly how to bother him in the most innocent of ways.

"Perhaps you were wrong!" he retorted, his voice beginning to rise. She set the teapot down, annoyed. She should have known that he would be most uncooperative.

"Monsieur Deberaux, I know that you are hungry and it would do no harm to sit down and eat," she sighed, impatiently waiting for him to comply.

Erik could feel the pang of hunger in his empty stomach, but he would not admit it. How bold this girl was before him, who insisted that he change his ways for something so trivial!

Instead of making a reply, he turned around to leave.

"Please," she begged.

"What do you want from me, woman?!" he shouted at her. He could feel his sanity slipping away with each second that he had spent in her presence.

"I have spent some time preparing this, if you would only try it," she insisted softly.

For a second, she wondered where Mr. Harris was for the majority of his time, but she knew that he would most likely favor his Master's preferences of hiding away, anyway.

She could not agree to allowing him to wallow in self-pity and lock himself up in his room as if it were a dungeon. His days of moping about, instead of enjoying the life that he could have, would be over, if she could help it.

"I am not hungry," he lied, his voice in a low growl.

This time, she stood up, almost knocking over her tea in the process.

"Why will you let no one into your life? Do you not yearn for company or wish to have a friend?"

"It does not matter what I want; what dictates my life is this!" he pointed at his mask. "I have been alone all of my life, and I shall remain that way. You are a fool if you think to change what I have been destined for!"

"Then allow me to be a fool!" she replied. She could feel the adrenaline running through her veins as she stared back into his fierce gaze; those darkened green eyes that wished to set her on fire. She lowered her voice and added softly, "You are not the only one who has had a difficult life."

His fists clenched into balls and his jaw tightened. What could she know of a childhood spent in a cage as people laughed at him, spit in his face, and whipped him until each tear in his chest and back had become a dull, throbbing ache?

How could she understand the coldness of days without the sunlight and nothing but a mask to keep him company, that very mask that laughed at him in the darkness each night? She did not look into the mirror and see the disgusting, mangled flesh that he called his face. She did not know what it was like to have the one whom she loved cower beneath her, wishing to be rid of the horror that he was.

No, she did not know what the word "difficult" meant.

"Do enlighten me," he muttered.


	10. Chapter 10

**10/3/13: I rewrote Chapter 9, and split it up to span it out with this chapter. Please re-read the previous chapter if you have already read it up to today.**

**Please review :)**

Ch. 10

"You mock me," she said. "But I have suffered a similar cruelty."

"_You_?" he asked incredulously, turning around to face her. As he spoke, he took slow, deliberate strides until he had almost closed the gap between them. She was caught off-guard by their sudden closeness. "You, who have been born with no misfortune to your face?"

"I have been born with other misfortunes, Monsieur," she mumbled.

He sneered at her comment. Misfortunes, indeed, he thought sarcastically.

Standing before him was a woman with smooth, flawless cream-colored skin, piercing blue eyes and soft brown hair. Her slender but curvacious frame would make any man take notice. There was nothing unfortunate about her!

"And what could they possibly be?" he retorted. "Certainly nothing of severe consequence."

She knew that he had become hard-hearted and resentful because of what he had suffered, but his lack of compassion took her by surprise.

"Enough to warrant the hatred of my husband," she admitted sadly. She did not wish to confide in him, let alone to reopen the wounds that she had been attempting to heal, but she could think of no other way to get through to him. As much as it pained her to speak about these things, she knew that the subject was inevitable for as long as she would be a servant in his household.

Better to get it over with, she thought.

Erik could not prevent the wave of shock that had washed over his features. "You are married?" he seethed.

He knew that women were deceptive, twisted creatures, but this had far surpassed his own imagination. He wanted to laugh with contempt. How fooled he had been to even begin to think that she was different!

"_Was_," she looked down at the floor and clasped her hands together. Although she was still a wife in the legal term, she knew that her husband had taken a Mistress and had broken his vows to her. In her eyes, she was free of any obligation to him, but to make it a divorce would have been a scandal. Women simply did _not_ leave their husbands, no matter the circumstance. "I would divorce him in an instant if I could."

Erik, still suffering from the initial shock, did not immediately reply.

He imagined what her husband had looked like; a handsome, normal face, most likely lean and well-built. He could feel the hair stand on the back of his neck with envy.

"Why? Does he not put up with your annoying personality, or do you enjoy ripping his heart out?"

As soon as the words had left his mouth, he wished that he could take them back. He watched her take a deep breath and struggle to maintain her composure, and he could see the pain in her eyes when she looked back up at him.

"I loved him!" she snapped back. "He had been the kindest man that I knew during our courtship."

Spare me the details, Erik thought. There were much more unpleasant things that he could think of doing, instead of listening to her rant about another man.

"But I failed to make him happy."

Erik almost rolled his eyes at her. Although she had irritated him to no extent ever since her arrival, he knew that her behavior was not enough to cause a man, who had chosen to wed her, unhappiness. If he had found a woman who was willing to become his wife, he would have been grateful, even despite the annoying habits that she had.

"It wasn't until after two years of marriage that he had discovered that I was unable to have children," she choked out through tears. "At first, he assured me that he still loved me, that he would be patient...but then he met _her._"

Tears escaped her as she pictured the woman in her mind; stunning hazel-colored eyes, long auburn hair that glistened in the light. She was the epitome of beauty.

Erik himself knew full well what it had been like to watch the one he loved in the arms of another, and he sympathized with how painful he knew betrayal to be. The contempt for her husband had only grown after her confession. How unfair everything had been; Erik would be alone during his lifetime, while he witnessed another man cast aside his own wife for another.

What he wouldn't give to have a woman as kind as Alinah by his side...and yet she could drive him to the point of madness!

He thought of how idiotic this husband of hers was, and then he compared the man's behavior to his own selfish treatment of her. He was probably no better in her eyes, and the thought plagued his mind with dark thoughts.

"She made him so very happy...she bore him a son. Everyone had suspected that he had taken a Mistress, but they did not know who she was, or even what had transpired. They hid it well.

She was invited to live with us. He had reserved special quarters for her, while I was sent to live in the opposite end of the estate."

When she had seen Monsieur Deberaux's expression soften, she continued,

"Everyday, I had to endure her mockery, I had to wonder why I had not been good enough for him. I would see him dote on her and spoil their son."

Erik's jaw relaxed and he frowned as he listened. He could feel the guilt of his previous words forming a lump in his throat.

"His anger eventually manifested itself and he would call me names and scream at me. He would call me useless and pathetic, good-for-nothing. When I would start to cry, he would hit me.

The night I left him, he had grabbed my throat and pinned me against the wall. He told me that I was dead to him. I had kept a small knife in my pocket, and I managed to cut his shoulder and when he released me, I ran. I ran as fast as I could and I didn't stop."

Erik watched her sit down, too weak to stand. She closed her eyes and swallowed the remaining tears. Every time she cried, she felt so weak and cowardly; she hated the feeling. She wiped away her tears and blew her nose in a handkerchief.

Before he could form the words in his mouth to apologize, she left the room without another word.

He sat back down on the divan and let out a repressed sigh, running his fingers through his hair. Once more, he glanced down at the meal before him and his conscience reprimanded him for getting so upset over her thoughtfulness. If only he had known earlier what she had endured, the reason why she had cowered before him, he would not have used his strength and power to intimidate her.

But then again, no matter what challenges she had faced, she had no right to intrude on his privacy, he reasoned.

Part of him wanted to follow her out of the room and to apologize for making matters worse, while the other part was afraid and confused. He could feel his thoughts and opinions struggling in his heart, trying to overpower one another, but to no avail. He was torn as to how he should respond.

After all, here was a woman who just _might_ understand him. And it truly terrified him.


	11. Chapter 11

**I will probably expand this chapter in the future, but here you go! :)**

**Please review.**

Ch. 11

Over the course of the next two weeks, Alinah had resumed her duties and Erik had kept to himself once more.

He continued to compose in his room, and she could hear his piano deep into the night, but neither one of them had had contact with each other since the day that Alinah had confessed of what her life had been like before she had arrived at the Deberaux Estate.

Many times, Erik had wanted to open his door and to say something to her to break the silence, especially when he watched her bring tea to his door in the afternoons, but his mouth had run dry of things to say. He simply could not form the right words, and so he didn't even attempt to do so.

Alinah almost felt as if something inside of her had changed. She no longer smiled because of simple things, or whistled to herself as she baked in the kitchen. The gloom of the house and Winter had taken a grim hold of her.

She could feel the cold reality of her circumstances, now. She had never really realized how much she had craved friendship until she had been employed there. At first, she had felt that the peace and quiet was a blessing, far different from the shouts of anger and violence that she had known. But now she had no one to converse with, even about simple things such as the weather.

She had never felt so alone in her life. Monsieur Deberaux had been her only chance of company, save for the snooty Butler who had disappeared to who-knew-where. She didn't even know what his duties were, or why he was paid a salary, in the first place.

She knew that Monsieur Deberaux had no intention of changing his ways, and this fact had only deepened her depressed state of mind. She had often laid in bed at night and wondered what her purpose in life was. Was she to cook meals, clean, and to bring her Master tea at exactly the same hour every day, without so much as a conversation with anyone?

Then her thoughts would revert back to her Master's face. She could not imagine what had caused such an irritation of the skin, but she knew that it had to be painful. She, too, had been a victim to the cruelty of society (as her inability to reproduce had made her subject to harsh criticism and gossip, including her family disowning her), and she wondered how Monsieur Deberaux had retained his sanity, as he had spent the entirety of his life on his own. She had only spent a few months without adequate human interaction, and already she was going mad!

Although she could understand why he wished to shut the world out and everyone with it, it saddened her to no extent to think of him living the rest of his life that way, and by his own choice. She had been more than willing to be a friend to him, but she simply had given up on trying to persuade him to see it himself.

If only she had known him before the world had treated him so harshly, she thought. Perhaps she could have saved him.

One particular afternoon on a Wednesday, Erik found himself staring at the clock with boredom. He had racked his brain of all musical notes that it could produce on paper that day, and had lost the desire to play anything on his piano. For once in his life, the taste of whiskey did not interest him, and he wondered if perhaps he was becoming ill.

He felt his forehead with the inside of his wrist, but his temperature was normal. He tried to remember if he had coughed or sneezed at all that day, but deep down inside, he knew that it had nothing to do with his health.

When the clock struck half-past-two, he stood up and walked over to the door to peek through the hole at the table beside it. Still, it was empty and lacking of a tea tray, just as it had been two minutes ago.

He sighed and sat back down in his chair. Where was Alinah, or more importantly, his tea? Or perhaps the order of that question should have been vice-versa, but he would not admit it to himself.

She had never been tardy, and he could not help but to start to worry about her.

He knew that avoiding her for the past few weeks had not been the best thing to do, and he wondered if perhaps she had found employment elsewhere because of it. Would she have told him, if that were the case? Probably not, and it wouldn't have surprised him if that was what she had done.

After all, he had deserved it. It was his own fault that he had not been more approachable, and he knew it. While he had tried to lock himself in his room and to go about his days as usual, his conscience had slowly been eating him away. Alinah had annoyed him, yes; but she did not deserve his anger and coldness.

He did not wish to dwell on such thoughts, so instead, he sat back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk as he thought of what to do.

Should he summon Mr. Harris to ask about Alinah's whereabouts, or should he search for her himself, instead? He decided against the second option. He wasn't sure if he was quite ready to face her, just yet.

He casually glanced out of his window, or the small space that had not been frozen over that he could still see through, and took notice of how much snow had fallen outside. For once in his life, he was grateful that he never left his estate, as the weather looked dreadfully cold and he had no desire to experience it.

Then, he saw movement to the north among the trees. With his eyes squinting, he focused his gaze on a tall maple tree at the edge of the acreage. On its branches, about three quarters of the way up to the top, was Alinah.

What a peculiar girl, he thought to himself with a huff. Climbing trees instead of fulfilling her responsibilities. He found that he was greatly disappointed that she had not brought him tea yet.

Perhaps she had not realized what time it was, he reasoned. But then again, he was not paying her to play in the snow! He would make sure that she had an ear-full of his reprimandings once she had returned inside.

He huffed and turned away from the window. Her stubbornness reminded him of himself, much to his disliking.

Once he heard a high-pitched scream that was muffled by the glass of the window pane, he looked just in time to see her fall from the tree and hit the ground, and his heart stopped beating.


	12. Chapter 12

**Please leave reviews :) Pretty please?**

Ch. 12

As soon as Erik had seen her lying motionless on the ground through his window, he panicked. Fear held a tight grasp on his heart as he knocked over his chair and ran out of his room, not even bothering to shut his door in the process.

"Mr. Harris!" he shouted as loudly as he could. "Edward!"

He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he stumbled down the stairs in a hurry.

Alarmed, Mr. Harris appeared at the top of the stairs and followed his Master out of the door, still unaware of what had happened. He had neither heard Monsieur Deberaux so afraid, nor seen him run before.

Erik hadn't bothered to put a coat on, and the bitter wind collided with his body and caused him to shiver. He winced as it bit the good side of his face with frosty licks to his skin.

Once her body was in view, the dread that had built up in his stomach made him want to vomit. He ignored the nauseous twist inside of himself and ran as fast as he could over to her.

He was nearly breathless as he bent down to examine her. Seeing the blood that left a small trail down her forehead and stained her skin sent chills down his spine.

Please be alright, he pleaded silently.

"Fetch a doctor, immediately!" he ordered Mr. Harris, who had not been able to keep up with him, and had been a few feet away.

Erik prayed that she was still alive. He lowered himself close enough to her lips to hear her breathing and he released the sharp intake of air in his lungs that pierced his sides from the cold.

Don't stop breathing, he begged her in his mind. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes when he saw how helpless she was, and all of the guilt and remorse that he had been suppressing hit him like a brick wall in that moment.

If only he had behaved differently, more gentlemanlike, maybe none of this would have happened. But how was the Opera Ghost supposed to behave like a gentleman? He did not know the etiquette and ways of polite society, only the instincts and reactions of a tortured and abused creature, both inside and out.

But he did know that he should have treated her better, regardless.

Had she jumped, in order to end her life, he wondered. The thought of someone else wishing to escape him was almost too much to bear.

Casting all dark and dismal thoughts aside, he focused on the task-at-hand. He noticed how wet her clothes had become from the snow, and he cursed the fact that he hadn't brought a coat to protect her from the cold.

He carefully slid his hands underneath of her and picked her up in his arms. Gooseflesh rose on his skin from the contact, whether from the chilly air or from having her in his arms, he did not know. Nor did he care to think about it. All that was on his mind was getting her inside, at once.

The way her head tilted back and rested on his arm brought him a piece of satisfaction that almost sickened him to think about. She was unconscious and in need of assistance, not willfully lying in his arms. Surely if she had woken up, she would have screamed by now.

He could feel the icy barricade forming around his heart, reminding him that he would never know what it was like to have a woman want to be in his embrace.

This is not the time to grieve my own selfish longings, he chided himself mentally. Alinah needed him, albeit only because he was the only person around to help her, but she still needed him in some way.

Once he was inside, he placed her on a divan in the foyer, too breathless and exhausted to attempt the stairs to her bedroom. Hoping to help in at least some small way until Mr. Harris and the Doctor had returned, Erik placed a blanket over her. He wiped the wet hair out of her face that had stuck to her forehead, matted with blood.

A small gash was etched onto the right side of her forehead, but he observed that it didn't look to be too serious. Still, the sight made him wince and he was saddened by the state that she was in.

He sat down on the edge of the cushion, next to her, and covered his face with his hands, and the thought that perhaps she wouldn't wake up had crossed his mind.

Who would bring him tea every afternoon? Of course, Mr. Harris could, but he would not be nearly as pleasant to look at, as Alinah had been.

As much as he didn't want to ever admit it, he would miss her.

If only he hadn't been so stubborn! All that she had wanted was a bit of company and light conversation once-in-a-while. Somehow, he felt that this was all his fault, and he would never forgive himself if her death was on his hands.

The tears in his eyes blurred his vision when he glanced at her. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful.

He could feel his anger rising when he thought of her actions that had caused this. If only she had been tending to her responsibilites instead of fooling around, then none of this would have happened in the first place!

Foolish girl, he growled in his mind at her. Pehaps she thought it was a game to make him worry over her, or maybe it was her way of getting back at him for his temper. She probably enjoyed the attention that she was receiving, too.

But once she had slowly opened her eyes and he could see the pain behind their blue color, he could no longer think those negative thoughts toward her, and his anger seemed to melt away.

"Monsieur," she smiled crookedly at him.

"Erik," he replied. He hoped that in some small way, he could begin to make amends by telling her of his first name. At least it would be a start. 'Monsieur Deberaux' seemed unfitting to him, anyway.

"Erik," her smile widened as she heard it roll off of her tongue with ease.

She closed her eyes again and grimaced, feeling the sharp ache in her head. She attempted to shift her position into a more comfortable one and a jolt of sheer agony surged through her left leg and left her paralyzed. Her audible gasp of pain made Erik's brows furrow with concern.

"What is it?" he asked, gentle enough not to increase the pain in her temples.

"My leg," she whimpered. She was too weak to hold back the tears that escaped, and she bit her lip.

"Is there anything that I can get for you?" he asked her softly.

The look of worry written across his features brought warmth to her heart.

"Can you bake?"

She had intended on her response to be a jest, but she couldn't force a smile to convey it. Instead, she inhaled sharply and focused on laying still. She had never experienced so much physical pain in her life, and she closed her eyes and let the tears silently trail down her cheeks.

Erik had never felt such a strong urge to wipe away the drop of liquid that had rolled down her skin, and he had to look away to prevent himself from doing so. His jaw clenched, and he wished a million terrible things upon himself if it meant that he wouldn't have to see her in pain again.


	13. Chapter 13

**This chapter was hard to write today because my brain isn't working. I promise that things will pick up with this story soon, though.**

**Please leave reviews! And thanks to those who have! You never really appreciate it until you write your own stories, because trust me, I never used to review for what I read but now I know how it feels. Anyway, I'm done with my little rant.**

**Enjoy!**

Ch. 13

"They are in here," Mr. Harris announced.

Following the tall Butler was a man with hair as white as snow and large spectacles placed on his wrinkled face. He was well-dressed for a man in his sixties, and carried with him a large black leather bag.

Alinah's eyes were too glazed-over to see him clearly, but she knew that he was the Doctor.

"Hello dearie," he said to her cheerfully. His warm and smiling demeanor did not cheer her up one bit, and she wanted the pain to be over with.

Erik immediately stood up and got out of the way, as the elderly man bent over his patient.

"Ah," he said, as if he had just discovered something, "You have a little cut on your forehead. Are you feeling ill or dizzy?"

Alinah slowly nodded her head and closed her eyes to focus on coping with the pain. For some time now, her stomach had twisted with nausea and the room had spun around her.

"It hurts," she groaned, her voice raspy from the tears that she could no longer shed.

"Yes, I know, Dear. Can you remember what happened?" he asked.

"Yes," she blushed, embarrassed, "I was climbing a tree and I fell."

Mr. Adams clicked his tongue at her, scolding her as he would a child. "And what would a proper lady such as yourself be doing in a tree?"

That was the question that Erik had wanted to know, too, and he waited for her response with earnest.

She glanced down at her hands with shame. She knew that she was supposed to be tending to her responsibilities as a servant, but the temptation of being outside in the fresh air, though as cold as it had been, had been too overbearing.

"I used to climb trees often as a child, whenever I needed a place to think. It seemed like a good idea, at the time," she kept her gaze low, unable to look into Erik's eyes to read his expression. She was afraid of angering him further.

She knew that he was most likely displeased with her for shrugging off her responsibility of bringing him tea earlier, and she was afraid to see his anger return.

Erik, on the other hand, would have been upset with her if she had not injured herself. He would have been infuriated that she had disobeyed his orders as his servant. But he felt pity for her because of the pain that she was in, and whatever damage that had been caused physically, he felt, was punishment enough for her childish behavior.

"Yes, well, a concussion is never a good idea," Mr. Adams remarked, a bit irritated. "You might feel ill for a few days or a few weeks, even. But it will pass."

"Also, I cannot move my leg," she said, pointing to her left one.

Mr. Adams kneeled on the floor in front of her and pushed his spectacles tightly against his face so that he could inspect the area further.

"May I?" he asked, his hands hovering over her. She nodded in agreement and blushed.

Mr. Harris suspected what the Doctor would need to do, and promptly left the room. Erik, however; had never had a visit from a Doctor in his life, let alone with a woman as the patient, and therefore he did not know why his Butler had disappeared. He figured that it was to tend to other tasks.

Before Mr. Adams went further, he turned to Erik and cleared his throat, signaling that he should leave.

"Mr. Deberaux, will you please excuse us?"

Dumbfounded, Erik replied, "Oh, yes."

He slowly walked toward the doorway, a bit disappointed that he had been requested to exit the room. He had wanted to know the extent of Alinah's injuries.

But before he was completely gone, he caught a glimpse of Mr. Adams raising Alinah's skirts to her knee, exposing the smooth leg beneath them.

Completely embarrassed for not realizing it sooner, he dashed out of the room and into the hallway.

When Erik could hear Alinah's screams, he paced back and forth anxiously. What should he do? Was Mr. Adams hurting her?

He felt on edge; like a ferral animal impatiently waiting for it to be released from its cage. He stopped mid-stride and rubbed his temples in frustration.

The suspense of what was going on was pure torture to him. Should he check on her?

No, he assured himself, Mr. Adams seems to be a gentleman. She was probably reacting from the pain of ascertaining her injury.

Still, Erik inched as close to the doorway as he possibly could without being seen, and turned so that he could hear them better.

"I do apologize for this," Mr. Adams said. "I must wrap it three more times, and then it shall be over with."

Erik released the breath that he had been holding. He could hear Alinah's cries turn into softer, quieter wimpers and eventually die down. He wondered when he would be allowed to enter the room again, to make sure that she was alright.

"It is broken," Mr. Adams announced as he walked into the hallway. "I have bound it, but she should avoid use of her leg as much as possible."

Erik nodded as he continued to listen.

"I have a pair of wooden crutches in my carriage that I shall fetch. I would advise that she rest for a few weeks," he added. He tilted his head and looked up at Erik over his spectacles, as he was much shorter than Erik was. "As she is a servant, will she need to find a new situation because she cannot fulfill her obligations while she heals?"

"No, that will not be necessary," Erik replied.

As much as the result of her foolish actions would prove to be inconvenient, Erik did not wish to begin the dreadful task of advertising for a new servant, once more. He had already been burdened with it once, and Alinah had proven to be efficient in handling her responsibilities alone. He could only hope that she would heal soon, as the thought of Mr. Harris taking her place did not interest him one bit.

"Very well," Mr. Adams said. "I shall be right back."

Once he had left, Erik went back into the foyer to see that Alinah's leg had been wrapped with a thick, white bandage down its length.

Seeing his gaze, she tried to pull her skirts back down as best as she could, but winced from the pain of her efforts and decided against it. It hurt too much for her to care, and she figured that Erik would be too upset with her to notice, anyway.

"I am sorry, Monsieur," she broke down into tears again. "For all of the trouble that I have caused you."

"It will not happen again, will it?" he asked. He had intended on sounding more intimidating, but quite frankly, his energy had been drained by the emotions and excitements of the day, and so his tone was softer than he would have normally liked.

She shook her head 'no'.

"Good," he concluded, right before Mr. Adams had returned with the crutches. After the Doctor had instructed Alinah on how to use them and what not to do with her leg, he bid his farewell.

Alinah was exasperated, both from the events of the day and from the medicine that she had taken to reduce the pain and swelling of her injuries. Her head ached and throbbed, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She quickly drifted off to sleep.

Erik left her for the night and retired to his room. He could not prevent the thoughts that came to him once he had closed his door behind him.

How dare she be so bold as to disregard his instructions? The only reason that she was even at his estate was because he had employed her as a servant, and yet she had cast her duties aside, and now look at what had happened!

Then he thought about the new challenge that the day had presented: who would take care of her? It was obvious that she would not be capable of doing everything herself, and he did not want to be burdened with the task of catering to her every need. No, _he_ was supposed to be served by _her_, not the other way around!

But then again, he had seen the poor condition that she was in.

"You are caring too much," he muttered angrily to himself as he sat down in his chair and glanced out of his window. Had it been any other person, he would have left them to die without a second thought. After all, he had killed in his lifetime.

Although it was only around six o'clock, the sky had grown dark early and the moon was beginning to appear. It reminded him of the night when he had been on the rooftop with her.

As much as he had wanted to repress the memory, he could remember it well. Even though most days he had wished to be dead instead of living the way he did, deep down inside of himself, he knew that he was a coward. That was why he had remained hidden by the Opera's walls and a false identity with Christine, why he had wished to run away from his memories by ending his life, and why he hid himself in his room instead of facing Alinah like a man. Running away was all that he had ever known, ever since the day that he had hid in the depths of the Opera as a boy, down to the day that it had been engulfed by the fire that he had caused.

But now, he didn't know what to think anymore.

Better not to think at all, he said to himself, as he poured a glass of the familiar golden liquid.

The last thing that he remembered before he drifted off to sleep was that his life could have been much worse. Alinah could have died that day.


	14. Chapter 14

**Whew, long chapter! I never force myself to write every day and pump out so many chapters! So thanks for the reviews that give me motivation!**

Ch. 14

The next morning, Alinah woke up with a dull ache in her head and a sharp pain in her leg that made it feel too heavy to lift.

She groaned as she thought of how helpless she was. What would she do all day? Certainly she would go insane if she had to sit in place on the divan for the next week, without any companionship and nothing to do!

If the pain didn't make her want to cry, then that fact certainly did. She knew that Erik would be in his room, and Mr. Harris was nowhere to be found most days. No one came to visit the estate.

Suddenly, the divan felt smaller to her. She imagined that her situation was similar to what it would feel like if one was stranded on a deserted island. The soft cushions of the couch were her tiny bit of land, and she was without a boat to travel anywhere else.

She sighed and stared at the ceiling. She memorized the gold engravings on the edges for what seemed like hours until she finally heard footsteps.

Her head whipped up just in time to see Mr. Harris appear with a tray in his hands. Her heart sank when she saw that it wasn't Erik.

She wondered what he was doing at that moment. Would he not come down to visit her? Would he pretend as if nothing had happened and continue to dwell in solitary confinement, while she was forced to keep herself company?

Despite his stubborn and irritating personality, he had saved her life. She felt even more indebted to him than she already had before. If only there was a way that she could show her gratitude, but how was she to do that if he would not even speak to her? It also didn't help that she couldn't walk, either!

"Good morning," she stated, attempting to sound cheerful.

Mr. Harris placed the tray of food in front of her and handed her medicine to ease her suffering.

"Thank you," she said once she had taken it. She glanced down at the tray to see a chocolate-filled pastry that was glazed with a sugary white icing. "Mr. Harris, I didn't know that you can cook!"

"I don't," he responded unenthusiastically.

Alinah, puzzled as to where he had gotten the dessert, shrugged and ate it anyway. She found his stare to be awkward and emotionless.

"Where is Monsieur Deberaux?" she asked once she had finished. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at her dirtied dress.

How was she to change into clean clothes if she couldn't move? Better yet, who would even wash her dresses? She had only three, and she washed them nearly every day from the spots that had accumulated from her chores.

"In his room," the Butler replied simply. He picked up the tray.

"Will he not visit?"

"He will do as he wishes. Do you require anything else?"

Alinah looked down at her wrinkled dress. "What am I to wear? This dress is dirty."

Mr. Harris sighed. "Would you like for me to get you one from your room?"

She nodded and asked for her olive-green-colored dress. Mr. Harris was very displeased about his new responsibilities toward her, but complied anyway. After all, she was now an invalid and it had been his Master's orders to assist her.

When he had returned with the dress in hand, he excused himself to allow her time to change.

What would have normally taken her mere seconds now took minutes, as she slowly sat up and carefully slid her dress above her head, gasping from the pain in her leg. She threw the stained dress on the floor and shivered from the chilly air. She noticed that the fire from the previous night had died and no one had lit a new one. The thin white shift that she wore did little to protect her skin from the cold, and she fumbled with her clean dress with shaking fingers.

Erik silently made his way down the staircase and thought of what he would say if he found her awake. Instead of spending the entire day in his room, something inside of him had compelled him to inquire about her well-being, knowing that she was downstairs, alone and in pain.

Once he walked into the foyer, he looked up to see her, barely covered in her chemise. He noticed the glow to the skin of her bare shoulders and neck.

She gasped and covered herself with the bundle of her green dress. He blinked and immediately turned the other way, embarrassed that he had been staring.

"Uh, I," he stuttered, looking around him as if the thin air would tell him what to do. He could not blink away the images of her in his mind, with her curly brown hair cascading down her back. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"How was I to warn you? I didn't even think that you would come down here!" she replied in defense as she hurried to put her dress on.

"I-I didn't think that I would see you...that way..."

"Well, what do you expect? I can't change in my room!"

Sighing, she took a deep breath to calm herself and reminded herself that he had come to check on her. Despite the mishap, it had been progress that he was even down there, and she did not want to ruin it. Not to mention, she did owe her life to him, and she could not stay angry with him for long.

"I am decent," she told him. Once he turned around to look at her, though, he could see that the rosiness of her cheeks had not yet entirely faded.

Even though she was wearing a long-sleeved day dress, he could only think of what he had seen earlier.

"I am sorry," she said, catching him by surprise. "I meant to thank you for saving my life."

Erik looked down at the floor and tried to form words in his mind. He wanted nothing more than to escape the room and almost regretted his decision to visit her.

He only nodded in acknowledgement.

She could see his uneasiness and changed the subject. "So, what am I to do now?"

"Rest."

"But what about my responsibilities?" she asked. She hoped that he did not wish to release her from his employment because of this.

"At this moment, your responsibility is to recover."

A moment of silence passed as she thought of something else.

"Will you hand me those crutches?" she asked, pointing to them. They were leaning against the wall next to the doorway, too far for her to reach.

"Why?" he questioned. He knew that whatever plan she had was probably not a good one. The last thing that she needed to do was to stress herself by exerting herself physically.

"What if I need to use the bathroom?"

Erik immediately reached for the crutches and handed them to her.

"I would like to go to my room," she announced, slowly swinging her legs over the side of the divan so that her feet almost touched the floor.

"But you can't," Erik stated.

"I must try! Do you wish me to be stuck here every day?"

"Stubborn woman!" he shouted. "Do you never do as you are told?"

Alinah bit her lip from his harsh words. Her tone softened as she said, "I only wish to sleep in my own bed. I also have a basin upstairs, and I can wash clothes so that I may be useful somehow."

Erik didn't respond. He only stared at the charcoal-covered fireplace and contemplated lighting a fire in it.

She sighed, seeing that she could not get through to him. "In all honesty, I miss the sound of your music."

His head snapped up and he looked at her in disbelief. "What?"

She could not look him in the eyes, feeling foolish to admit it. "You play so beautifully, and I often stop to listen. But I cannot hear it down here."

For a moment, he wondered if she was lying. Perhaps her scheme was to persuade him to bring her upstairs by use of flattery and false compliments.

But the musical genius inside of him allowed the small part of his ego to inflate from the attention that he craved. It had been years since someone had appreciated his music, and even if she wasn't being honest with him, he still wanted to hear what she had to say about it.

"What songs do you play? They are all unfamiliar to me," she added. She could see the small smirk that he had been trying to hide, and she guessed that he didn't receive compliments very often.

"I compose them myself."

Alinah raised her eyebrows in surprise. She knew that her employer had been a dark, mysterious and intelligent man, but she never would have guessed that he had possessed the talent of composing music. His music had been so powerful and passionate that it had often brought tears to her eyes, and she could feel the emotion behind every note.

She had always believed him to be suffering from a cruel misfortune in his life, but this fact seemed to open her eyes even more. She felt sad to think of what wasted talent he had possessed and hid from the world.

"Have you ever had your work performed?" she asked curiously. She couldn't imagine that anyone would not wish to hear such beautiful songs.

Alinah felt as if she had asked something that she shouldn't have once Erik's countenance fell.

"Yes, but things did not go as planned," he muttered under his breath. She could barely hear what he had said.

Erik had always used his identity as the Phantom of the Opera to intimidate, threaten, and to scare people. He had always made himself known to his managers in order to carry out his wishes, to the performers if they did not do as he asked, and to the audience if he had been disobeyed. His persona as the dangerous Opera Ghost had been a weapon that he had wielded whenever it had been called for.

But for once in his life, he was grateful that someone didn't know who he was. Certainly, she would not have been in his home, let alone attempting conversation with him, if she did.

He turned his gaze back to her and watched her glance down at her lap, ashamed of stirring up unpleasant memories within him.

"That is a shame," she replied softly. She looked back up at him with sad eyes. "I would have loved to have seen it."

He wanted to sneer at her remark, or to laugh at her. He could imagine the fear that would have been on her face if she had seen all of the things that he had done. Perhaps her naive opinion of him would have been tarnished when she had seen him murder the stagehand. Or maybe she would have paled with fear when he kidnapped Christine and caused such chaos that led to the destruction of L'Opera Populaire.

"Will you play a song for me?"

The question had sounded so innocent in her mind, but now she felt ashamed to have asked. The last thing that he had wanted was to burdened by an invalid, she thought.

"Forgive me; I shouldn't burden you," she quickly added.

Though part of him wanted to return to his room and drown out the memories that now filled his mind, he couldn't help but to consider her offer.

Christine had been his student for so many years, and their lessons together had been what he had looked forward to; what he had lived for. Before he had even fallen in love with her, when she was a little girl, he had enjoyed giving of himself and his talents in some way. So many times he had watched the smile on her face or appreciation that she had for his music. He felt useful; needed.

How he longed to feel that way again; like he had a part to play in life. Music had been his only purpose, and if he had someone to share that with...

He did not want his thoughts to get carried away. He knew that Alinah had only asked to hear his music, and whether or not she could play an instrument he did not know. Even if she could, he wasn't sure if he would be willing to teach her. After all, he was determined never to make that mistake again. He would never suffer the humiliation and heartbreak once more, if he could prevent it.

But then again, Alinah had delighted in hearing him play. How could he refuse such an opportunity? He reasoned that it was only his music that she had wanted to hear, and there would be no obligations required of him. She was not asking for anything but a simple song. Would there be any harm in that?

"Alright."

She almost didn't hear him speak, and when she did, she looked up at him in shock. "Alright, what?"

"I shall play for you," he glanced into the hallway and at the stairs, forming a plan in his mind. How would he get her up there?

Despite her better judgement, Alinah couldn't help but to blush. She knew what he meant, simply that he would play music for her to hear, but she felt pleased by his choice of words. It almost sounded as if he would play specifically for her, which would have delighted her, but she knew that it wasn't what he had meant. Still, she could not prevent the ever-increasing admiration for him that formed in her heart.

Erik almost wanted to take back his words the more that he pondered the situation. He knew that she wouldn't be able to walk up the stairs, even with the aid of her crutches. The only way was to carry her.

He was not worried about the ability to carry her upstairs, because he was certain that she was light enough. But he couldn't help but to feel uneasy when he thought of what it entailed. He would have to be closer to her than he was comfortable with, and without the threat of imminent danger or adrenaline to keep his thoughts at bay.

He groaned inwardly and took a deep breath. He had already agreed to it, and could not take it back.

"I will have to carry you," he told her, hoping that she would feel too uncomfortable for the task and would decide against it, herself.

"Okay," she nodded in agreement as she rested her crutches against the divan.

He muttered curses under his breath, quiet enough that she couldn't hear, as he made his way over to her. The way that she looked at him and waited made him even more nervous than he already was.

He placed his arms underneath of her and chided himself mentally for his stupid decision as he picked her up. She felt light in his arms, and the way that she wrapped her arms around his neck made his heart pound faster in his chest. He inhaled sharply and hoped that she wouldn't notice how his palms began to sweat.

He carefully walked toward the staircase, and all that he could think about was the way her body was held tightly against his, and the way her hair smelled of vanilla. He could picture her silhouette in her shift, as he had seen earlier, and almost stumbled on the first few steps of the stairs.

What he wouldn't give to be out of the situation that he was in! The question was not whether or not he had the strength to carry her up the stairs, but whether or not he had the willpower. His thoughts of their intimate position frustrated him to no end.

Alinah, too, attempted to hide the flutters in her chest. Her cheeks reddened at the thought that his face was only inches away from hers.

Once they were in front of his door, Erik was nearly out of breath, either from the exercise he had just received or from their contact. He cursed the fact that he fidgeted nervously to open his door. Never in his life had he felt so vulnerable, and it scared him.

She could see his anxiety, and the urge to touch his cheek and reassure him became stronger, but she fought it. She knew that it would trigger his violent temper, and she did not wish to be at the end of it, especially since he was holding her and she could not stand on her own.

She looked around her as they made their way to the piano in the corner. A large dark-colored four-post bed took up the majority of the room. She liked the crimson-colored chiffon draperies that hung from its posts and cascaded around the sides, and she wished that her bed looked the same. Also, his sheets were red and gold satin, and she envied how soft and elegant they looked.

To the right of his bed was a large window, and almost directly in front of it was a desk and chair. Papers were strewn about everywhere, even on the floor. She could see the bottle of ink that had accompanied the many smears and spots on the desk and papers.

Erik set her down on the piano bench with great care. He straightened up and loosened the cream-colored cravat around his neck in an attempt to breathe better.

Alinah waited for him to sit beside her. He hesitated, cursing himself mentally for what he had gotten himself into. Here, not only was she in his room, but he would have to sit next to her in order to play. He prayed that his fingers would stop tingling and that he could calm down enough to be able to maneuver the keys correctly. Why, oh why, did he agree to such an absurd idea?

He already felt as if he looked like a fool, and he did not wish to continue that way, so he promptly sat down beside her. Their shoulders brushed against each other and he swallowed hard as his mind raced with too many thoughts to concentrate on just one.

He glanced around himself anxiously as he noticed that he had no sheets around him. Most of the time, he had memorized his work and didn't need them, but how would he be able to do that when his mind was whirling and he couldn't think properly?

"What would you like to hear?" he asked her dumbly. He wanted to slap his own forehead at his stupidity; obviously she didn't know any of his songs!

He quickly got up and grabbed paper off of his desk, hoping that there would be something in the pile that he could use. He set them on top of the piano and sorted through it.

One piece in particular caught Alinah's eye. Despite the scribbles and blots of ink, she caught the title of it before he had covered it up.

'Christine'.

Was that the name of the woman who had broken his heart, she wondered. Had Erik ever been in love before? She could imagine that a man as passionate as he was would have experienced it by now, but she wasn't certain. She could feel the twinge of jealousy as she thought of someone holding his affections.

What would he have been like, in love? Would he have been happier, or had he always been so dark and brooding? Was he romantic or affectionate? She could imagine that his behavior would have pushed others away, after all; in the few months that she had known him, she had discovered that he had a temper, he loathed himself and did not wish to see anyone. Those were not necessarily healthy attributes to a relationship, she thought.

But for her, those qualities only made her want to solve the mystery that he was to her. She knew that he was not a bad person, and she wanted to find out what he was like once she had gotten past the rough exterior.

Erik was too frustrated and impatient to look any further, so he sat down and began to play from memory. Much to his relief, the sound of his piano calmed him down and gave him a confidence that overtook him as he ran his fingers quickly over the keys.

Alinah was tempted to close her eyes to better hear the notes, but she wanted to watch him, instead. Who knew when she would have this chance again, if ever, and she wanted to savor as much of it as she could.

She watched the emotion on the good side of his face as the song slowed to a sad, tragic tale. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows, feeling the music inside of him come to life. She watched him in awe. How handsome he was, how talented and artistical! How could the world shun such beauty?

As the song slowly came to an end, she wanted nothing more than to assure him that it was not his fault for whatever he had suffered, to show him that there was still good in him, and that she was not like everyone else and to take his pain away. He had treated her far better than Walter ever had, and she never wished to bring him pain.

She watched him eagerly as he slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at her, the tears that had formed disappearing as he was brought to his senses.

And she couldn't help but to stare at his parted lips, and to wonder what passion lay in them if she were to press her mouth to his.

**A/N: I know that it's a cliffhanger, but at least you don't have to wait very long for the next chapter...or maybe you do if I don't get reviews...mwhahaha!**


	15. Chapter 15

**BONUS: 3 chapters at once! Woohoo!**

**Please review since I'm being so nice?**

**(and many thanks to my faithful reviewers).**

Ch. 15

Erik stared at the clarity of her brilliant-blue eyes, and his gaze traveled down to her beautifully-shaped lips. Perhaps just this once, he could know what they would taste like...

He broke eye contact with her and turned away, ashamed of what he had been thinking. How could he ever fool himself into entertaining the idea of kissing a woman? No doubt, it would scare her away, and the last thing that he needed was to find a new servant.

Alinah was disappointed, but she refused to show it. The thought of kissing her probably hadn't even crossed his mind, and she wanted to hide her face in shame. Why would she think for a moment that he would be interested in her, when he clearly wanted nothing to do with her?

She cleared her throat. "That was astounding. I have never heard anything as wonderful as the music that you create."

He turned around to face her with a sad smile. How bitter-sweet it was to hear her say those words. Had he heard them years ago, it would have given him false hope that one day she could come to love more than just his music, but he would not be so naive again. It was a compliment of his talent, and nothing more.

"I will take you to your room," he told her, accepting the cold reality of forever being alone.

She nodded with approval, feeling too embarrassed because of her previous thoughts to be in his presence more than necessary.

He picked her up once more and her breath caught in her throat. If only he would turn to look at me, she thought, as he carried her down the hallway to her room. But Erik refused to glance her way, too consumed with the bitterness that began to enter his thoughts, like the darkening and frightful clouds of an approaching storm.

He would always be alone, and nothing he did would change that.

He managed to open the door to her room and promptly set her down on the bed. She reluctantly let go of his neck and stared into his green-colored eyes, wondering what he was thinking about as he lingered above her.

He looked down at her and noticed the way that her hair spread out on the pillows. It looked so soft that he wanted to reach out and touch it. She waited for him to speak, but he couldn't.

He could not bare the temptation any longer, so he quickly released her and left the room.

Curse that woman, he thought. She means to torment me!

He slammed his door behind him and refused to come out for the entire day.

THREE DAYS LATER

"Mr. Harris, what do you know of Monsieur Deberaux's past?"

Alinah watched the Butler as he lit a fire in her room. The weather had only gotten colder, and the sheets and blankets on her bed did not help much.

Three days had passed since Erik had brought her to his room, and it had annoyed her to no end that Mr. Harris had been the one to bring her meals and keep her company, if you could call his presence that.

She had not heard a word from her Master, and she was hurt that he didn't seem to care about how she was feeling. The cut on her forehead had formed a scab, and she no longer suffered from nausea or headaches, but her leg was taking much longer to heal. Thankfully, however; Mr. Harris had brought her the crutches that very morning, and she felt a glimmer of hope at the prospect of perhaps listening to Erik's playing outside of his door.

Mr. Harris waited until the fire was blazing before he stepped away from it and responded,

"I know that he came from France over two years ago," he said, not wishing to gossip about his employer. He stood and waited to see if she would require anything else.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, I know that!" she groaned. "But what brought him here?"

She laid on her bed, the brown silk sheets covering her legs and her hands folded on her lap, waiting eagerly for his response.

Mr. Harris turned around and began to walk to the door. "Perhaps you should ask him, yourself."

Before he could leave, she called out, "Is it because of Christine?"

He immediately froze in place, shocked at what she had said. He slowly turned around to face her, with one eyebrow higher than the other in a surprised look. "Where did you hear that?"

Mr. Harris had been the only one to know of his Master's history, and he knew almost all of the details well. He doubted, though, that Monsieur Deberaux would have told anyone else, as he knew that his Master had wished to forget all that he had left, almost three years ago. The fact that the little servant-girl knew something had surprised him, and he wanted to find out just how much she knew.

"The other day, I saw that he had written a song for her," she replied.

"You were in his room? And what possessed you to be so bold as to disobey his orders?"

"He brought me to his room."

Mr. Harris was taken aback. Monsieur Deberaux had actually _wanted_ her in his room? What had transpired between them that he didn't know about?

But the more that he thought about it, the more his shock had disappeared. Monsieur Deberaux was a lonely man, but a man nonetheless, and with normal urges. And Alinah was a beautiful woman...

She saw the way that he was looking at her with contempt, and she reddened with shame from what he must have been thinking. "Oh, no, it was not what you think! He played a song for me, and that was all."

Still, Mr. Harris eyed her suspiciously. "And why would he do such a thing?"

No, it did not seem in his Master's nature to do something so absurd for a servant. He could not imagine the bitter man welcoming her into his personal life in such a way.

"Because I told him how much I enjoy hearing him play. As you know, he is a stubborn and ill-tempered man, so I, too, was surprised that he had agreed," she explained. "But I have not heard from him since, as he insists on locking himself away for who-knows-how-long."

If he didn't know any better, it would seem as if the two were having a lover's quarrel, but he knew what an unlikely match they were, so the thought vanished as quickly as it had entered his mind.

"Then why do you wish to know about him?"

She sighed. "Because I want to understand him better. I think that he is a brilliant and talented man, ill-used in some way, and I wish to know what happened."

"And what would be your motivation? To use it to your advantage, somehow?"

"No! I would never hurt him! You think poorly of me, Mr. Harris, but I...I care for him more than you know. I wish to help him."

As much as it had embarrassed her to admit this, she could see that this may have been the only way to get Mr. Harris to tell her.

"Do not make me laugh, Ms. Claude! _You_ care about _him_?"

Still, his expression remained suspicious toward her.

"I do think that it is impossible to make you laugh, Mr. Harris," she remarked softly, but he didn't respond. She bit her lip and tried to think of some way to persuade him. "If I use the information that you tell me in a way that displeases you, then I ask that you release me from my position at the Deberaux Estate. But I assure you, that it will not happen."

He gave her one last glance before turning around and announcing,

"I shall return with your tea, shortly."

Alinah huffed to herself after he had left, and pouted. Would she never learn anything about the mysterious man who played the pianoforte so beautifully?

When Mr. Harris returned, he placed the tray of tea on her bedside table. He left the room without another word, but not before seeing that she had noticed the paper that lay on the tray before her.

In big, bold letters, the newspaper read,

"The Opera Ghost Strikes Again!"


	16. Chapter 16

Ch. 16

Alinah picked up the newspaper and observed that it was dated to almost three years ago. Her eyes quickly scanned the words, eager to find out how they had related to Erik.

She noticed that the publishers were from England, and she was grateful that she wouldn't have to try to translate the page from French. She had never learned the language well enough, anyway. But then, if he was even written about in her home country, miles away from where it had happened, why hadn't she heard of him before?

The article read,

"What began as a pleasant performance of 'Don Juan' at the well-known Opera Populaire of France, soon turned into a nightmare that many will never forget.

The famous Christine Daae, the Opera's lead Soprano, graced the stage with beauty and a voice so enchanting that one could not help but to admire her performance."

Alinah frowned. Christine could sing. Maybe this was the reason that Erik had no interest in her. Alinah could not sing at all, and sounded like a sick frog, on her best days. And no doubt, Christine was beautiful, too.

She read on:

"It was said that the production of 'Don Juan Triumphant' had been a creation of the Phantom of the Opera, the ghost who had terrorized the managers and cast with deadly threats if they disobeyed him. He had insisted on Ms. Daae to be cast as the lead, and there have been rumors that she had been a student of this masked man for many years. While he had taught her to sing, his obsession for her had made her suffer.

"That night, he would claim her as his. The elusive Opera Ghost took the place of the lead male role, Senor Piangi. His voice so powerful that it seemed to cast a spell upon those who listened, no one in the audience had suspected it..."

Erik, singing? Never had Alinah heard him sing, but she wondered what it had sounded like. If his music could portray such emotion and beauty...she shivered at the thought of hearing him sing.

"...their characters singing of love and passion..."

Alinah could feel the jealousy creep up into her heart, and she threw the paper down on the bed. She didn't want to read about his little love affair! The thought of him serenading another woman sickened her.

She huffed very loudly and crossed her arms across her chest.

I am behaving like a child, she chided herself mentally, what is wrong with me?

She picked the paper back up and continued,

"The local authorities had been on alert, as well as Ms. Daae's fiance and the Patron of the Opera House, Raoul DeChagny. The Phantom was wanted for murder.

"In a heated embrace, Ms. Daae ripped off his mask to reveal the Phantom; half-man, half-monster, with a face so hideous that the screams of the crowd could be heard for miles. Next, the Phantom of the Opera abducted Christine, taking her with him to the bowels of the cellars, where he had resided for many years. His drastic actions caused the fall of the chandelier, and sent the Opera House up in flames, claiming the lives of many victims and families.

"Ms. Daae and the Vicomte DeChagny have managed to escape the tragedy, and they have fled outside of the country in order to forget the hauntings of the infamous O.G.

"It has been concluded that the Phantom has perished in the fire, but will his ghost still haunt the remnants of what once used to be the most successful Opera House in all of France?"

Alinah slowly set the paper down, shocked. Had this 'Phantom of the Opera' been the very same Erik that she knew?

She shook her head and wanted to rip up the paper, but instead, she threw it on the floor. While the newspaper had made it appear that Erik had behaved no better than a savage and wild animal, she knew better. Society was afraid of what it couldn't understand, and there were not many people in the world who could bare to see his face with a positive reaction.

She knew that he had a temper, but she had never suspected that he had murdered before. There had to be some motive or reason behind it, she thought. There were many opportunities that he had to hurt her, yet he had never laid a finger on her in a harmful way.

No, she did not believe him to be the evil person that everyone else thought he was.

And what's more, she could feel her blood boil at the thought of what Christine had done to him. She didn't know the woman or the circumstances, but she knew that no matter what Erik had done to her, he didn't deserve the humiliation that she put him through.

She knew that it had been nearly impossible for him to find love with his face, and perhaps this was the reason that Christine had not returned his feelings. But what made it worse was the fact that she ripped off his mask in front of everyone.

Now she understood why he wanted to be left alone; why he wouldn't let anyone into his life. The woman who he loved and trusted, who he gave his heart and soul to, had betrayed him. She had done the worst possible thing to him, damaging what little self-esteem he had.

Alinah could never think of ripping his mask off if he did not give her permission, and she certainly wouldn't do it in front of anyone else. That was something so personal and intimate that she felt that he would never share with her, and it did not belong to someone else to rob him of his dignity.

She began to cry as she thought of what he had suffered. She didn't know what had happened to his parents, or why his face was the way it was, or even what lay beneath the mask, but the thought of him living his life in the cold, wet and filthy depths of the cellars made her sob. His beautiful, musical genius and talent was hidden from the world, but they didn't deserve it. He lived like a rat in the Opera House; the place that should have praised and admired him for his work.

Alinah now felt more hopeless than ever before. Now, how was she to assure him that she felt differently than everyone else in his life, after what he had been through? Most likely, he would never trust anyone again.

She cried for hours until she finally fell asleep. And that night, she dreamed of the kiss that never happened.


	17. Chapter 17

Ch. 17

Alinah slept most of the time over the course of the next week, and one Friday morning, she found that her leg didn't hurt as much. Though she had been depressed, she felt that resting had been good for her, and almost seemed to freshen up her spirits.

What had made things worse, however; was the fact that Erik hadn't visited her once since he had played for her.

When Mr. Harris brought in her breakfast, he pondered the dejected state that she had been in, lately. He wondered if her mood had been from the newspaper article that he had given her, and he felt a little guilty if that had been the reason. Had she come to terms with the fact that she had been employed by the Phantom of the Opera, or did she still mourn the situation that she had found herself in?

No, he could not think that she was pitying herself. She didn't appear to be the type of person to do such a thing, and he knew better. He had observed the way that she was still disappointed whenever he entered the room, and he assumed that she would rather have Monsieur Deberaux for company, instead. Even despite what she had read about him, Mr. Harris could see that she still longed for her Master's presence.

He could not imagine what had possessed her to develop such strong feelings for Erik, but he could admit that he was somewhat relieved. Although he didn't show it, Edward had pitied his employer's state ever since he had met him, and it had increased with each day that he watched Erik waste away his life in his room. He needed someone to draw him from his darkness, and perhaps Alinah would be able to.

"Has Monsieur Deberaux said anything to you, lately?" Alinah asked, hoping to hear some piece of useful information from the Butler.

"I am afraid not. He has been sulking in his room all week and drinking himself into a pitiful stupor during the nights," he replied nonchalantly.

Alinah was taken aback by the way in which she heard him speak about their employer. Had she not, only upon days of arriving at the estate, heard him so boldly defend Erik in front of the former cook and insist that no one speak of his master that way?

He could see the surprised expression on her face, and he explained himself.

"Yes, even _I_ am not immune to his depressed moods and ill-temper."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement, unsure of what to say. She had never seen this side of the Butler's personality, and it had confused her.

"Did you read that paper?" he asked her suddenly.

"Yes," she replied, glancing at the now-folded-up newspaper next to her bed. "How terrible that he was treated that way!"

"And you have no opinion of the fact that he has kidnapped, or even murdered, because of his obsession?"

"If you were mocked, laughed at, or treated like an animal, would you not react the same way? Perhaps it was for self-defense. We do not know the details. And as far as Christine goes, maybe she led him to believe that she had returned his feelings. But it is of no consequence; it is in the past, and the Erik that I know now is different."

"You certainly hope for the best in others. I would not be so naive, if I were you."

While he had admired the fact that she could see the good qualities in Erik, he was not blind to Erik's behavior. For her to think that she could change years of bitter anger and solitude could prove to end in painful disappointment.

"Why not hope?" she asked, taking a bite of her food. "Why not hope that he could learn to trust again, and to find happiness? Isn't that what we all want in life?"

"You are a very peculiar girl," he remarked. "His temper would have driven anyone else away, but you certainly seem to have the patience for it."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I do not think so. He drives me mad, at times! But, he has treated me far better than my husband ever did, so I know that there is still good in him. Besides, he deserves a friend."

"Yes, well," he began as he stood in the doorway, "Think what you wish."

And with that, he left.

After she had finished her meal, Alinah decided that she would pay Erik a visit. If he would not come to her, then _she _would come to _him_.

She had decided that she had had enough of his stubborn and uncooperative behavior. Yes, he had lived a difficult and cruel life, and she could understand his behavior, but she refused to let him pout in his room any more. She would fight his stubbornness with her own, even if it meant facing his wrath until he saw that she would not back down.

She did not want to spend her days moping around in her room, alone. She didn't know how he could tolerate it for so long, either.

She picked up her crutches and slowly edged herself off of her bed, wincing from the dull ache in her leg. She hobbled over to the door and struggled to open it while balancing herself.

Erik could hear the thuds of the wooden crutches on the floor becoming louder and more distinct, but he ignored it. His mind had been too preoccupied with other thoughts to care.

The noise stopped as she stood in front of his door. She knocked on it, hoping that he was there.

"Erik, please answer the door," she pleaded softly.

He growled under his breath and hoped that if he remained silent enough, she would go away. What did she want, anyway? Didn't she know that he was busy? He had had little sleep the previous night, as he had suffered from a terrible nightmare, and he had no patience for the likes of her.

"I know that you are there. Please, I must speak with you."

Still, he said nothing. He brought the glass that was in his hands up to his lips and drank the last few drops of his whiskey. The hair on the back of his neck stood up when he could hear his door slowly open.

She could see him sitting at his desk with a miserable look on his face.

"Erik..."

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and his eyes filled with rage.

"Curse you, woman!" he shouted, raising his glass up and slamming it down on his desk in anger. The glass broke into many small shards from the forceful contact and cut into his hand. He yelled profanities at her and balled his hand into a fist as the blood slowly trickled down onto the sheets of paper beneath it. "Leave me alone!"

She called for Mr. Harris and slowly walked closer to Erik, even though she could see him shaking with anger.

"You are injured..." she noted.

"What difference does it make to you? Leave me at once!" he yelled, gritting his teeth from the pain.

Still, she stood in front of him and didn't move. "I can't leave you like this."

Mr. Harris appeared in the doorway, alarmed by the shouting that he had heard.

"Mr. Harris, will you fetch us a washcloth and a bowl? Also, some bandages," Alinah asked. Mr. Harris nodded once he had seen his Master's injured hand and went to retrieve the items as quickly as he could.

"You will leave this instant," Erik growled at her. He slowly stood up, hoping to intimidate her with his height.

She stared calmly into his eyes, and it unnerved him.

"I will not," she replied gently.

Before Erik could say another word, Mr. Harris had returned with the bowl. He set it down on the desk beside Alinah and took his leave, afraid of getting in the way or angering his Master further. If the servant-girl had wanted Erik to strike her dead, then so be it, but he would not stand around to watch.

"Let me see your hand," she ordered Erik.

He sneered at her. "And why should I listen to _you_?"

"Because you are bleeding!" she raised her voice, losing patience with him very quickly.

"And why would that bother you? Let me bleed!" he hissed. He cradled his arm close to his chest, and the scene reminded Alinah of a wounded animal, licking its wounds and snarling at someone who had only wanted to help.

"Do not say such things!" she chided.

"Why not? No one would miss me," he sulked. His temper had faded into an after-storm of morose and depressing thoughts.

Alinah quickly grew tired of his self-pity. "GIVE ME YOUR HAND!" she shouted very loudly, her small frame shaking from her efforts.

Erik snapped out of his depressed state, shocked at her tone of voice and the look on her face. He had never seen her so angry before. Her eyes glared dangerously at him, as if saying 'I dare you to defy me', and he felt at a loss for words. His dumbfounded-state gave her enough time to grab his arm and pull his hand towards her. He remained silent as she thought of what to do, first.

Her small fingers carefully uncurled his hand, and his jaw clenched from the sharp pain. He looked away, but she could see a piece of glass that had been lodged in the side of his palm, just below his little finger. Thankfully, the cut wasn't very deep, but she could see that it had stung greatly.

Although his hand hurt, Erik was more concentrated on the way that she handled him with the utmost care and delicacy. Her hands gently held his in place as she looked closer and studied the wound. He could not help but to sneak a glimpse at her.

She had let her hair down; something that enhanced her beauty greatly. For a brief moment, Erik wondered why her husband had ever wished to have any other woman.

"This will hurt," she cautioned, glancing up at him to see that he had been studying her face. She could not discern his expression, but she guessed that he was either shocked at her boldness or waiting for her to finish before he would unleash his fury on her.

She tried very carefully to remove the glass with as little movement as possible. She could hear the sharp intake of breath through Erik's lips when she had pulled it out, and she immediately grabbed the washcloth. The water was lukewarm and perfect for cleaning his wound; not too hot or too cold, as it would have only made the pain worse.

She gently dabbed at the cut and the white fabric turned a bright shade of red. She dipped it in the bowl one last time and made sure that there was no hidden glass still in his skin.

Erik watched her with fascination. Never before had someone treated a wound of his, and her attention to detail and tenderness had suprised him. His frustrations from before had melted away, and he wondered why he had even yelled at her in the first place.

She slowly maneuvered her weight that had been resting on the crutches so that she could reach the bandage. She brought the long cloth in front of her and began to wrap it around his hand. He winced as she applied pressure in order to make sure that it would be tight.

"Forgive me if I have caused you pain," she almost whispered.

The warm and caring expression in her eyes made him fearful. It scared him that he no longer had control of the situation, and he could feel himself weakening each time that he looked into her eyes.

He ripped his hand away from her and turned around to face the window, closing his eyes tightly. He wished that she would disappear, so that his sanity would return. Every time that he was around her, he didn't know what to think, and it often left him confused.

"You don't have to say 'thank you', but if you wish to repay me, then I have a splendid proposition!" she said cheerfully, waiting for his response. This idea that she had, had been the reason why she had come into his room, and she was anxious to share it with him.

"And why would I agree to such a thing?" he sneered, whipping around to face her. He slowly walked over to her with a dark look on his face. This woman was reigning him in, and he refused to let her have control. He refused to let her toy with him.

Still, her smile remained, as she had expected his grouchy mood. "Because it will benefit the both of us."

"Oh?" he raised a brow, wanting to mock her with feigned interest. How could she _possibly_ know what would benefit him?

"Yes," she continued as she if she didn't notice his sarcasm, "I would like to learn to play the violin. I know that you would delight in sharing your musical talent with someone, although I could never play as well as you, but would you not enjoy teaching someone?"

Erik didn't respond. Of course he would enjoy it.

The anger inside of him threatened to erupt like a volcano. This woman knew exactly what strings to pluck in his heart, to get what she wanted! But what exactly did she want?

"And if you refuse," she began as she made her way to his open door, "well then, your ears will have to suffer the consequences of having to listen to me teach myself. And I assure you, as I have never played the violin, the screeches will be loud enough to force even _you _out of the sanctuary of your room. Shall we say, eight o'clock tomorrow night?"

Erik ground his teeth together and glared at her. "Are you threatening me? If only you knew exactly who you were threatening..."

She reached for the doorknob, and slowly began to close the door. "Oh, I do. Monsieur 'Le Fantome de L'Opera'," she said in as best a French accent that she could attempt.

Before she shut his door, she couldn't prevent the wide smirk that had formed on her lips at the sight of Erik's gaping mouth and the shocked expression that had washed over his countenance as he watched her leave.


	18. Chapter 18

**So this weekend, I will be out of town. I will still try to maintain my goal of posting at least one chapter a day, but I may not be able to until Monday. I will try, though.**

**Thank you to all of my loyal readers and faithful reviewers. Fuzzball: Thank you! *accepts plate of cookies but then Erik steals them because, as you know, he has a sweet-tooth* ;)**

**Enjoy!**

Ch. 18

Once Alinah had shut the door, she was almost certain that it would soon be opened by a very angry Erik. She even paused for a few seconds, waiting to see if he would reprimand her for her brazen attitude. But nothing came.

Sighing, she began to make her way back to her room and hoped that he wouldn't protest her idea further the next day.

Meanwhile, Erik sat still in his chair, staring blankly out of the window. He watched the soft, fluffy custers of snowflakes float gently toward the ground below. Then, he glanced back down at his bandage-covered hand. He remembered the way that she had taken care of him, careful not to hurt him. He could still feel his heartbeat quicken at the thought.

But his thoughts of admiration were soon replaced with unpleasant ones. She knew who he was.

His face reddened as he felt ashamed. What would she think of him, now? Would she cry herself to sleep, wondering how she ever had the misfortune of being trapped inside of this estate with a frightening monster? Would she find a new situation and leave his estate, immediately?

She would be wise to do so, he thought to himself. Perhaps she may have known that he was the Phantom of the Opera, but did she know what horrors that fact had entailed? Certainly she wouldn't have requested that he teach her to play the violin if she had.

But maybe she knew everything, and still she wanted his company?

Erik highly doubted that this was the case. What person, let alone a woman, could overlook the terrible things that he had accomplished with his hands; the very same hands that had been wrapped around the necks of men until they had been drained of their last breath and had both disgusted and frightened Christine with his touch? No, Alinah could not possibly have known what he had done.

He also reasoned that no matter where she had gotten her information from, she still hadn't seen his face. Even if by some small and highly-improbable chance that she had chosen to ignore Erik's past, he knew that she would be no different than everyone else if she had seen his cursed visage.

Once the alcohol had taken a hold of him, he could feel a warm and calm feeling spread over him. His vision began to blur and the world started to spin around him, and he stumbled his way to his bed. The sun was hardly visible outside, covered mostly by the grey clouds, but he guessed that it was only around two o'clock in the afternoon. He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and nearly tripped and fell as he went to lock his door.

The cold crimson sheets of his bed had never felt so good, as his body had ached from fatigue. He laid back on his pillows and carefully removed his mask, setting it aside on the nightstand. The chilly air felt good on his skin, as the mask had often irritated and rubbed it raw. He often wished that he could go without wearing his mask in his own house, but even _he_ didn't want to see his own face.

If she wants to learn to play the violin, then so be it, he thought. But she will soon regret ever asking me! And with those thoughts, he fell into a deep and restful sleep.

Erik was awakened in the middle of the night by soft footsteps beside his bed, and a hand that had been placed on his shoulder.

"Erik..." she breathed, bending down to whisper into his ear.

He quickly opened his eyes, startled by the voice, and could see her long chestnut-colored hair tumbling down her shoulders and tickling his chest as she bent over him, with one of her hands supporting her weight on her knuckles alongside his body and preventing him from escaping.

Her tight curls shone with a golden tint from a nearby candle. The light flickered in her soft blue eyes as she stared at him. She wore only a sheer nightgown, and he could see the outline of her curves.

"Erik..." she whispered again, placing a soft hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes and sighed; it felt so heavenly to feel her skin on his right cheek, carefully touching the scarred flesh.

Then his eyes fluttered back open as he was hit with realization. Where was his mask? He glanced nervously about him, but he couldn't see it anywhere. She seemed to notice his discomfort.

"You have nothing to fear," she inched closer to him and began to kiss the good side of his face, sending shivers down his spine. He tried to keep as still as possible, afraid that any movement would only scare her away.

But as she slowly made her way to his lips, he let out a sharp exhale and gripped the sheets tightly, trying to calm himself down. If she didn't stop, then she was going to push him over the edge and he would not be able to prevent himself from kissing her.

"Alinah..." he pleaded with her to quit. She paused for a brief moment and stared deeply into his eyes.

"Yes, Erik?"

Her lips inched closer to his and he closed his eyes again, unable to resist-

Suddenly, Erik sat up in bed and opened his eyes, breathing heavily as he looked around the darkness of his bedroom. No candle had been lit, and as his eyes adjusted he could see that his door had remained locked. Lastly, Alinah had not been standing beside his bed. Beads of sweat trailed down his forehead and he realized that it had only been a dream.

Even in his dreams, that stubborn woman wouldn't leave him alone. He was certain that she would be the death of him.

The next day, seven o'clock in the evening found Alinah sitting on her bed, anxiously waiting for the time to pass. Only one more hour and she would find out if she was to have her lesson with Erik or not. She wished more than anything that something inside of him would compel him to cooperate with her.

When Mr. Harris came to check on her, she asked for him to fetch the violin that had been placed in a case on a shelf in the foyer. She had first noticed it when she had started to clean that room, months ago.

Mr. Harris paused at the doorway, puzzled as to why she would want the instrument. He could not foresee her having any musical talent whatsoever, as he had often heard her hum songs that were very out-of-tune. They had still been somewhat pleasant to listen to, as her enthusiasm and cheerfulness would rub off on anyone, but that did not take away from the fact that she couldn't hit most notes.

"Might I ask what you would be doing with Monsieur Deberaux's personal property?"

"He is going to give me lessons," she replied casually, as if the answer had been obvious. She picked up her crutches and maneuvered her way to the chair beside her fireplace, too impatient to sit on her bed any longer.

Mr. Harris was, yet again, taken aback. The more that he had become acquainted with Alinah, the more that he realized just how much he had underestimated her. "Is that why he was so irate with you, yesterday? I was almost certain that you were a dead woman by the look in his eyes, but whatever did you do to persuade him to teach you?"

Alinah smoothed the invisible wrinkles in her lap to keep her hands busy and replied,

"I threatened him."

The manner in which she had said it appeared as if it had been nothing out-of-the-ordinary to threaten the Phantom of the Opera; the man whom so many had been terrified of and had feared for their lives. She said it in no different a way than she would have remarked upon the snowfall that day.

"And what could you have possibly threatened him with?"

She let out a deep breath, frustrated that the clock had not been ticking faster, and she began to rearrange her hair. She let out the twist and repinned it, hoping to look her best. "I told him that if he did not teach me, then I would plague him with my lack of violin-playing-skills," she stopped pinning her hair up to look at him, as if confiding a secret, "And believe me; it would not be a pleasant sound. You have to know that with his talent for music, and his attention to detail and precision, it could be one of the worst things to befall him."

Mr. Harris began to erupt with laughter, and Alinah stared at him with confusion. Had Mr. Harris an identical twin brother who had taken his place? She had never imagined that such a sound would have come from him, and the deep, hearty laugh that came from his chest made her smile.

"Let me go fetch the violin," he chuckled, wiping tears away from the corners of his eyes as he disappeared into the hallway.

If I do say so myself, that man is stranger than the Master of the house, she pondered.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello, dear readers! Sorry for the wait, but it shouldn't happen again. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and please let me know what you think.**

Ch. 19

Once the clock had struck eight, Alinah's heart began to pound so hard that she could feel her pulse in her throat. She clasped her hands together tightly and her palms began to sweat, so instead she wiped them on her dress nervously.

She fidgeted, anxious, and her heart lept in her chest when she heard her doorknob being twisted. It slowly creaked open, and in walked an equally-nervous Erik.

He was wearing a white ruffled button-down shirt, a black overcoat and matching black pants. His attire reminded her of an orchestra conductor, and the way that he had sleeked back his dark hair had complimented his eyes nicely. She could easily say that when he had put some effort into his grooming, she couldn't help but to stare in awe at his masculine physique.

"Very handsome," she commented. As soon as the words had left her mouth, she stifled a gasp and looked away. Her face reddened as she chided herself for saying it out loud. She could feel herself shrink into her maeve-colored armchair and she hoped that if she became small enough, that she would eventually become a mere dot and maybe even disappear altogether in order to escape her embarrassment.

Once Erik heard her, he scoffed. He was not in a humorous mood and had no patience for her jesting. Had he glanced her way, however; he would have noticed the way that she blushed and covered her face with shame, but he hadn't. He huffed very loudly and picked up the violin that had been laying on her bed.

He had second-guessed and re-committed himself to his decision of whether or not to appear for her lessons all day, and now that he was in her room he wished that he had an excuse to leave. But something inside of him compelled him to pick up his bow and to take his place beside the fireplace, so that she had an ample view of him. Whether his motive had been caused from his recently-awakened desire to share his music with someone, or his subconscious need for socialization, he did not know.

Alinah coughed in an awkward fashion but had quickly assessed that either he hadn't heard her remark or he wasn't taking her seriously and thus, chose to ignore her. Had he ever been complimented on his appearance before, anyway? She suspected that he probably wouldn't know how to react or wouldn't believe it.

"Have you ever played before?" he asked her. He thought of how he should begin their session, uncertain of what he should do, exactly. He was not familiar with her knowledge (or lack thereof) of the instrument and the situation made him feel uncomfortable. He pulled at his cravat, nervous, to fill the void of temporarily having nothing to do as he awaited her answer.

"No," she responded. If only her shame could not have increased any further, but it had. She thought that at any minute her head could be mistaken for a giant tomato because of how red her face was. A tomato with hair, she giggled to herself and covered her mouth with her hand. Normally, she would have behaved as a mature adult, but she found herself too nervous to think properly.

Erik looked quizically at her as he wondered what she had found funny. He examined himself, feeling self-conscious and thinking that she had been laughing at him, but he couldn't figure out what it was. His clothes weren't dirty and nothing was out of place. Even his mask was perfectly straight.

"If you are mocking me, then I strongly suggest that you quit, or else you shall not ever play the violin at my expense," he warned.

She immediately straightened up and her smile vanished. "I was not laughing at you," she mumbled with a frown. On a more serious note, she added, "Will you play for me first, so that I might observe how it is done?"

He gave her a curt nod and placed the violin under his chin, then he raised the bow and hovered it above the strings. Alinah shifted her position into a more comfortable one, and the excitement inside of her made her giddy, but she hid it well so as not to upset him.

He stood only mere feet in front of her. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply before he began.

Alinah could see the bow dance across the strings in a blur as they vibrated beneath it, but she could not have imagined that such beautiful sounds could eminate from something so simply-constructed.

At first, the notes were subtle, distinct, as they fluttered about in quick, rapid processions; cautious and hesitant to sing their song. But then they slowed to a soft whisper and she shut her eyes, allowing the music to drift through the air and land in her ears, almost as if they belonged there; they belonged to her alone.

The slow and steady tones gradually grew deeper, more passionate, as Erik did not open his eyes even once and continued to manipulate the strings with ease. The notes sung louder, telling a tale of a love so unwavering, so deliberate and powerful that she sighed with content. She could feel the melody reverberate and hum in her chest, seemingly synchronizing the beats of her heart with each string that was played.

Once Erik had finished, Alinah had found herself on the edge of her seat, gripping the arms of her chair tightly. It felt as if her body had built up feelings that she didn't know she had, and his music had released a flood of emotions through her. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to sigh with admiration, she wanted to lean back in her chair with a smile on her face, and she also wanted to cry. But when she opened her eyes to look at him, the tears that had formed in them slowly disappeared.

The emotion held in Erik's eyes were indescribable. She was caught in his gaze, defenseless and helpless as she sat completely still and the silence lingered in the room. The flames of the nearby fire burned brightly in his green orbs, but the passion inside of him had far exceeded it. He looked at her with hungry eyes; eyes that would turn everything in their path to dust, as they seemed to burn a hole right through her. She could feel her heart almost stop in her chest and pound violently to catch up to her slowed breaths.

"That was...I've never..." she swallowed hard and licked her dry lips. Erik noticed this, and it almost sent him over the edge. He could see the way that she looked at him with longing and admiration.

"You are amazing," she said. She had meant for it to come out differently, perhaps something to the effect of 'That was amazing' or 'You are the most talented musician that I have ever heard', but her thoughts were too jumbled to comprehend herself clearly.

Erik blinked and looked away. He could not bear to see the way the flames danced across her features and enhanced the color in her eyes and added a glow to her skin.

"Shall we resume lessons tomorrow evening?" he asked her after he had cleared his throat. He placed the violin carefully back in its case, and she watched him with slight disappointment. She had hoped that he would have played for her some more, but she was thankful that at least he hadn't given up on their lessons entirely. She knew that sharing such a deep and personal part of him must have been a trial in itself.

"Yes," she responded. She stood up quickly and curtsied as best as she could once he had been waiting in the doorway. "Thank you."

And without another word, Erik left, with the desire and longing in her eyes haunting his thoughts until the early hours of the morning.


	20. Chapter 20

Ch. 20

Alinah could not focus for the entirety of the next day. Her mind had been too consumed with thoughts of the previous night, and she could remember the enchanting tale that the violin had sung from his fingers, followed by the fierce look in Erik's eyes once he had glanced at her. What made her situation worse was the fact that she could not escape these thoughts, as she was stuck inside of her room all day and still could not make it down the stairs with her bad leg in order to fill her time with more useful tasks.

But what plagued her mind the most were her own feelings. Over the span of a few hours, she had had time to ponder her circumstances and to analyze and dissect everything that had occured since she had been employed at the Deberaux Estate.

Upon first arriving, she had been wounded and was seeking a place of refuge. She had also felt hope and freedom at the thought of starting a new life, safe and hidden from the evil vices of her husband. Never again would she have to feel inferior in the sense that she was a failure and could never meet another's expectations. At the Deberaux Estate, her slate had been wiped clean, and she had found satisfaction in knowing that she had accomplished what was expected of her with ease.

While she had regained the joy and vigor that she once had, she had also met her mysterious employer, and with this came curiosity. She could not help but to feel intrigued by his behavior and once she had learned of his circumstances, she had sympathized with him. She felt relief and understanding in knowing that someone else had fallen short of society's expectations and had lived a life unjust and cruel. But she had quickly discovered that his pain had only turned into bitterness and anger.

Then, she had developed hope for him. She had found a purpose in her life; to show him kindness and friendship. She wanted to go where no one else had; to prove to him that not everyone in the world was wicked, and that he could find happiness despite what he had believed. She had awoken every morning with a renewed determination to defy the tragic fate that he had placed on his own life. She would have done as much as she possibly could in order to put a smile on his face.

And this was what had worried her. What had first been nothing more than a kind gesture or compassion for a fellow human being who had suffered, had now accrued in interest until it had become something far more personal. Every time that he had denied her, every time that he had closed her out, she had taken it personally. She should have shrugged it off, but instead, she wondered if perhaps it was her own fault. Perhaps she had been pursuing something that could never be, and he would never change.

She now realized that she had devoted more than simply her time and energy into this. She didn't know at what point it had happened, but during the course of the past few months, she had noticed the way her heart sped up in his presence and how she wished for nothing more than to please him. She dreamed of him, she could not get him out of her head; how he had saved her life and the way in which he had carried her, how the touch of his hand had made her heart skip a beat and the look in his eyes the previous night had ignited a fire within herself that she could not extinguish.

And yet, the grim reality that he had begrudgingly agreed to give her lessons, how he did not wish to see her, formed an icy grip of pain on her heart. She knew that he had only complied because of the desire to teach someone and to share his music, not because of her. No matter what she did, he couldn't see how she had longed for his company, and perhaps he didn't want to see. He had been heartbroken in the past, and maybe the time that she had spent on him was wasted.

Would he ever give love a chance again? She was beginning to believe that he was too blinded by his stubbornness and past failures to make anything of his future. Perhaps she should give up. After all, she, too, had been afraid. She had never imagined that she could feel this way about a man after what she had already been through with Walter, and now that she could see that Erik did not return her sentiments, and probably would never allow himself to do so, she felt hopeless.

But as the clock struck eight yet again, she found herself growing nervous with anticipation at the thought of seeing him once more, even if it wasn't for the reason that she had hoped for.

Erik sighed as he raised his hand and gripped the doorknob. He couldn't tell which he had felt stronger; the dread of seeing her again, or the anxiety of uncertainty.

When he entered her room, he could see that it had been lit only by a few candles that had been scattered about in random places. He glanced at her fireplace, wondering why it had not been burning, when he noticed that she had no wood. He would have to order Mr. Harris to fetch more, he mentally took note.

There she was, waiting patiently in her armchair in her green dress. She wore it so often that he wondered if she even had many clothes, as he picked up the violin and took his place in front of her. He could feel a small pang of guilt as he realized that he had never even asked if she had needed anything materially when she had first arrived.

Ignoring his conscience, he decided upon how he would start.

"Can you stand?" he asked her, holding the bow in his right hand and the violin in his left. She nodded and pushed herself off of the chair, then she hobbled over to him. He took a deep breath when he had seen how close she was.

"Here," he said, offering her the instrument. She took it in her delicate hands and placed it as she had seen him do before; under her chin with the bow resting on the strings. She had never even held a violin before, and she fumbled with holding it straight. He noticed this and gently urged it to be tilted upwards with his fingers. She also held the bow slanted, so he reached behind her and pushed her elbow up to level it.

Alinah's skin burned from his touch, but she chose to ignore it. As he showed her each string and told her which one it was, she found that she couldn't concentrate, and she knew that she would not be able to remember what he was teaching her. He was too close to her for her to think clearly.

He quizzed her on what she had just learned and asked her to play random notes to see if she could remember what they were. While she had tried as best as she could to focus, she watched him wince as she would play the wrong string or had played in a way that made the violin shriek. Her lack of experience paled in comparison to his skills, and she became disappointed at the fact that the sounds that came from her playing had sounded nothing like the soft tones that he could produce.

He noticed her frustration, and he didn't know how else to teach her. He had tried everything, but had become agitated quickly, and so the only thing that he could think of was to stand behind her and to take her arms in his, gently guiding them with the bow across the strings as he repeated the notes to her.

As Erik guided her, Alinah could feel her pulse racing. She nodded absentmindedly when he asked her if she understood each note, but all that she could think about was how close he was to her; mere inches away, and occasionally, he would brush up against her back.

His thoughts also weren't clear, and he was thankful that she had no knowledge of music to know that he had stumbled a few times. His breath caught in his throat when he felt her sigh against him. He mentally reprimanded himself as he thought of how aweful of an idea it had been to take such liberties with her, yet he couldn't pull himself away. It was as if something had been drawing him to her, even against his will.

When she turned her cheek to glance back at him, she could feel his breath on her skin. A sharp ripple of shivers surged down her spine and her fingertips began to tingle. The violin became silent, and only the sound of their breathing could be heard.

Erik could feel his courage slipping away, and he considered leaving her there. Yet, part of him wondered why she hadn't pulled away from him, and she seemed to be waiting for him to respond.

He wiped his sweating palms on his pants and turned away from her. Alinah sighed with disappointment; she had expected as much. Why had she hoped that it would be any different? But the anger and sadness from his constant rejection had built up enough that it gave her brevity to face him this time. She would not let him abandon her so easily.

"Why turn away? What are you running from?" she asked. She could see the look of pain and confusion formed on his features that had been brightened by the candlelight, and he couldn't raise his eyes to meet her.

"I do not think it is wise to continue our lessons together," he concluded. Things between them had gone far enough, and he was afraid that he could not face her without acting on a foolish whim or impulse. No matter how clouded his thoughts had been with her (and he attributed this to his lack of companionship for years, and nothing more), he could not give into something that would only chase her away or frighten her.

"Why not?" she raised her voice, hurt. He could hear how disappointed she was, and he could not help but to admire her zeal for learning the violin.

"I have made a terrible mistake," he mumbled to himself, but she heard him. This only increased her anger.

As he turned around to leave, she called out, "Don't leave! Please!"

The despair in her voice caused him to pause, mere inches away from the door.

"Why must you run from me? I only want to be your friend," she pleaded. She would not admit that she had felt more than friendship towards him.

Her words were mockery in his ear. How could someone like her wish to be his friend? She only wished to keep up the charade and he guessed that she had enjoyed playing mind games with him.

"You do not know what you are asking," he responded, trying to keep a hold on his temper. He could feel his anger rising as she felt the need to constantly remind him of what his life had been missing.

"You are blind! Can you not see that I am not Christine? I will not cower from you!" she shouted. A wave of guilt immediately washed over her because of what she had said, but it was too late to take it back. She had been too upset to hold her tongue.

She watched his shoulders tense and his body become stiff. She imagined that at any moment, he would turn around to punish her severely. She knew that he wouldn't harm her physically, but he was so unpredictable that she wasn't quite sure what to expect.

He didn't even turn to face her. With closed fists and a tight jaw, he seethed, "Do not ever speak of her, again."

She bowed her head in silence.

"I am sorry," she muttered, hoping that he would hear her.

"If you wish to be of help to me, then leave me alone!" he yelled, turning the knob on her door. "The last thing that I need is a sniveling little servant-girl prying into my life!"

He left the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving Alinah to her tears.


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you for the quick reviews! I present to you, another chapter for today (and it's an extra-special treat since I have to go somewhere with Wifi to post since I don't have internet).**

Ch. 21

Two weeks went by, and Alinah had gone nearly insane from the quiet and solitude. It seemed that every day, her room would become smaller and smaller, confining her as a prison would. She found that the more time that she spent alone in her room, the more that she continued to dwell on depressing thoughts and the worse her mood became. She needed to do something to occupy her mind and to make the time pass by quickly, but she couldn't.

She needed to get away. She wanted to contemplate her situation and although she had plenty of time to think with her injury, she felt that she needed an outside-view of everything. She needed to get out of her environment so that she could think clearly.

She had written to Elinor only days before, and her excitement grew when she had received a response from her that morning. She had invited her to visit since it had been months since they had last seen each other. Alinah would not hesitate to take up her offer, and immediately she packed a few things for her journey. She had prepared a note for Monsieur Deberaux, explaining her intentions, and she waited for Mr. Harris to arrive for her lunch so that she could have him deliver the message to their employer.

She knew that Erik would not be too happy with her, but she reasoned that with her broken leg she couldn't fulfill her obligations in the house, anyway; and so what difference would it make if she were gone for a few weeks? As soon as her injury had healed, and she would be capable of resuming her duties, she would return. Besides, he didn't wish to see her, so it would be of no consequence to him.

"Mr. Harris, will you please give this letter to Monsieur Deberaux, and tell him that I shall return in a few weeks, once I have fully healed?" she asked, holding out the piece of paper for him to grab.

"Where are you going?" he took the note and tucked it into his pocket. He knew that whatever she was up to, would be no good.

"I am going to visit a dear friend of mine. I figure that there is nothing here for me to do, anyway; so of what harm would it be?" she replied, standing up and grabbing her crutches. She was too anxious with excitement at the prospect of breathing fresh air once again, and she couldn't sit down to eat. She grabbed her cloth sack and contemplated how she would make her way downstairs.

"The Master will be very displeased," Mr. Harris commented in a tone of caution. He eyed her suspiciously, wondering if she had really planned on ever returning, or perhaps she was leaving for good. But who could blame her? Even _he_ had found the cold and lifeless estate to be depressing, at times.

"Yes, well, he is always displeased."

Mr. Harris raised his nose into the air and said no more. He felt greatly disappointed in the way things had transpired; his Master was still too melancholy to snap out of his mood and now, Alinah had decided that she had no choice but to leave. He would be the only servant, yet again. He could not help but to think that he would be the one to receive his employer's temper once Monsieur Deberaux had discovered what had happened.

Alinah made her way to the door and opened it. "Goodbye, Mr. Harris. I shall see you soon."

But he could only force a grim smile, for he did not think that she would ever return.

For once in her life, Alinah was thankful that no one else had occupied the house, and that her Master had been shut up in his room all day. There would be no one to see her disgrace herself as she made her way down the stairs the only way that she could: by scooting down the steps. She sat down on each step and carefully eased herself down to the next one, dragging along her crutches and bag. How she must have looked utterly ridiculous, she thought. But she was determined to leave the house.

Once she had reached the bottom, she winced in pain as she pushed herself back onto her feet. She hoped that she would never have to do that again, but the smile that formed on her lips from seeing the front door down the hallway made her efforts worthwhile.

After she had gone outside, she ordered a carriage and waited patiently for it. The air was cold, and snow had still covered the ground, but the sky was brighter than before. She took in a deep breath and savored the fact that she was finally outside and away from her dark and dreary room.

The journey to her destination was long and tiring, but she had found that her spirits were already lifted when she thought of how, soon, she would be reunited with her friend. At least then she would have someone to talk to, and someone who enjoyed her presence!

Meanwhile, Mr. Harris knocked on his Master's door and waited for him to answer. He had grown quite nervous, afraid of how Monsieur Deberaux would react upon reading the letter.

The door opened, and Mr. Harris handed Erik the note. Erik quickly opened it and his eyes skimmed over the words:

"Monsieur,

As I have been completely useless to you lately and I am in need of a change of scenery and a bit of fresh air, I have gone to visit a friend of mine. By the time that this letter reaches you, I will already be gone. I shall return in a few weeks, once my leg has healed, so that I might be of service to you once again.

Your Servant,

Alinah Claude".

Erik's face twisted into a snarl as he crumpled up the paper in his hand. By now, Mr. Harris had known to leave before his Master had finished reading the letter, and he was nowhere to be found.

Erik stormed off into the hallway and stopped in front of Alinah's door. If he found that she had actually left, then there would be Hell to pay if she ever returned. But he highly doubted that her "visit to a friend" would be temporary. The thought made his blood boil.

He pounded on her door and heard no response. Once he had opened it, he saw that her bed had been neatly-made and she was nowhere to be seen. Erik shouted a string of profanities into the air and turned on his heel to go back to his room.

He was yet again without a servant, and he did not want to advertise for another. He knew the real reason why she had left; that she had feared him and loathed living in the household of a monster. She merely couldn't keep up the innocent and naive charade any longer.

But how could he have expected things to be any different?

"My dear Alinah, how wonderful to see you again!" the bright and cheery face of Elinor made Alinah's smile widen. She slowly made her way over to the elderly woman, and the two embraced.

"Oh, Elinor, I have missed you!"

"My, my," Elinor examined the weak state that the young girl was in, "What has happened to your leg?"

"I broke it a while ago. But don't worry; it is healing just fine. Soon it shall be as good as new, again."

The two went inside and Elinor lit a fire before bringing her friend a plate of treats. She sat down at the small table in the foyer with her and clasped her hands together with excitement.

"Eat; you must be famished!" she urged Alinah. "I have been so lonely without you!"

Alinah took a bite of a pastry and giggled. "Oh, if only you knew! I have been locked away in my room for over a month now, because of my leg, with only the warmth of a fire to keep me company! I have felt so useless, sitting all day!"

Elinor stifled a gasp. "Your Master is unkind? Does he insist that you be locked away?"

"Oh, no!" Alinah responded, hoping to clear up the misunderstanding. "He is very kind. I am afraid that I don't see much of him, and the Butler is the only other servant in the house. I was merely complaining about the lack of company, dear Elinor."

"He does not wish to speak to you? Oh, I should think not, for you are a servant. But does he not have visitors? Does the Butler not provide juicy gossip?"

Alinah could not help but to laugh at her enthusiasm, and it was nice to have a conversation with someone. "No, he is sort of a recluse. It is a long story. And as for the Butler...let us just say that he is drier than this flaked pastry!"

The two women giggled.

"So tell me what you have been up to lately," Alinah urged after she had finished her meal and brushed the crumbs off of her hands.

Elinor sighed and pushed the reading spectacles higher on her nose. "Oh, nothing much. I think that you have had quite the adventure compared to me. Do tell me about this Master of yours."

Alinah looked down at her hands. She didn't know where to begin.


	22. Chapter 22

**So, I just realized that I originally typed my chapters with a line to seperate some of the paragraphs, but it doesn't show up here. Sorry if it sometimes gets confusing when I'm moving on to later in a day or a different day.**

Ch. 22

"He is tall; much taller than I am, (but that is something easily accomplished with my height), has dark hair, and piercing green eyes with emotion so powerful that I have never seen the likes of it," Alinah said, as she remembered the night that he had so passionately played the violin.

Elinor nodded as she imagined what he looked like in her head. "He sounds very handsome."

"Yes," Alinah smiled. "He is."

She decided not to tell her friend of his mask, afraid that if by some small chance Elinor had heard of the Phantom of the Opera or had remembered hearing of him from long ago, she did not wish to draw attention to her Master. She was not certain how her friend would respond.

"Then what makes him a recluse?"

Alinah pursed her lips and thought of how to respond. "He has lived a life of suffering. You see, he is a talented musician, wonderful, actually; he even composes his own music. Oh, Elinor, if you could but hear the way in which he plays the pianoforte, but especially the violin! It would bring tears to your eyes from the magnificence of it! But he has not been fully-appreciated, and the one work of his that was performed ended badly. He also suffers from a broken heart, as the woman he loved did not return his feelings, and he watched as her affections were placed upon another man," Alinah explained. It was the only way that she felt that she could phrase it without it sounding overly-suspicious.

Elinor's hand flew to her chest as she gasped. "Oh, how dreadful!"

"Yes, I am afraid so. He spends all of his time in his room and does not speak a word to anyone, except on a few occasions with me, but his temper always gets a hold of him-"

"He does not hurt you, does he?" Elinor asked, concern written across her aged features.

"Oh, no! He has never harmed me. I only meant that he is very short on patience and bitterness has clouded his judgement."

"The poor man! Has no one been able to help him?"

Alinah sighed. "I have tried, but it almost seems as if he doesn't _want_ to be happy or to live a normal life. No matter what I do, he is not interested in conversation and wishes to see no one. I am afraid that I do not know what to make of it, anymore."

Elinor nodded very slowly and raised her eyebrows in astonishment at the young girl's sadness. "It seems that you are very fond of him," she noted.

Alinah could sense her meaning, and she quickly replied, "Oh, you are mistaken!"

"Am I?"

The redness of her cheeks betrayed her, and she took a sip of tea to occupy herself.

"Well," Elinor said, "I shall not interrogate you a minute more, tonight. You must be exhausted!"

Alinah nodded, relieved that she wouldn't have to discuss her feelings that instant. The two bid each other goodnight and retired to their rooms.

The next day, Alinah was preparing lunch in the kitchen while Elinor was away. She decided to make a glazed ham with roasted vegetables and she knew that there would be enough leftovers for dinner. She could see that Elinor didn't have much to eat, so she wanted to make certain that none of it would go to waste.

When Elinor had returned and saw the young girl taking the ham out of the oven, she sighed with delight from the aroma of spices that lingered in the air.

"What is this? You didn't have to trouble yourself," Elinor said.

Alinah set down the ham to cool and removed her smock, which had been dirtied. "Oh, it is no trouble at all! I wanted to show my gratitude for all that you have done for me, and I do love to cook," she explained.

Elinor nodded and reached into a cabinet to pull out two plates and silverware.

"You do not have many supplies in your kitchen. Might I run to town later to fetch a few food items? I have a bit of money to spare and I should wish to make for you my signature flourless chocolate cake," Alinah proposed. She had brought with her what little salary she had made at the Deberaux Estate, as she had not yet spent it. She had just enough to purchase one more dress in addition to the supplies that she would need to bake with.

Elinor chuckled at her enthusiasm. "It appears that you do enjoy cooking."

Alinah picked up the platter of meat and brought it over to the small circular dining table in the next room. When she returned, she said, "Yes, but desserts are my speciality. I have always dreamed of owning a patisserie and I would make the finest chocolates that one could find."

When she saw Elinor's look of confusion, she added, "Yes, I know that women typically are not business owners, but I have heard about a few different French women who have done this. Besides, I am already an outcast in society, anyway."

She smiled sadly as she thought of how Erik was the only one to understand her. He couldn't show his face to the world because of a physical disability, and she couldn't show herself because of her actions in life. Not only was she certain that her family would have disowned her by now because she had left her husband instead of endured his mistreating her, but she knew that none of her friends or acquaintances would accept her into their circles once they had heard of what she had done. Both she and Erik didn't have a place in society.

Then, she wondered what he was doing at that moment. Had he noticed that she was gone, or had Mr. Harris given him the letter, yet? Would he be furious with her? She could imagine that he would be, but this was something that she felt she must do, and he would have to deal with it.

"Yes, well, I agree that you cook so wonderfully. Now, let us enjoy that hard work of yours," Elinor said, leading her guest to the table so that they could eat.

Later that afternoon, it was about half-past two o'clock when Alinah made her way to town. She couldn't help but to be reminded of the frightful night when she had first arrived there, and the circumstances that she had been in when she first met Elinor. She remembered it all very well...the way that he had grabbed her throat, how the air had quickly escaped her lungs as she suffocated, the fear that drove her to keep running...the way the moonlight glistened on the wet cobblestone streets...

She shook the thoughts from her mind when she was jerked by the carriage coming to a stop. She stepped outside and pulled her cloak tighter around herself to seal in the warmth of her body. She covered the majority of her face with the shadows of her large hood, cautious not to let any of her acquaintances recognize her.

She mentally chided herself as she made her way over to a shop. She didn't realize the risk that she was running and the full extent of her danger until she was no longer protected and hidden inside of the carriage. Nevertheless, she regained her courage and walked into the shop.

She picked out a few items from the shelves that she would need and made her way over to the shopkeeper. Only a handful of people seemed to be in town, and she attributed it to the cold weather that usually made most people wish to stay indoors or to travel to warmer places. So far, no one had recognized her, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she paid for the items.

As she started towards the shop door, she casually glanced out of the window, and she was suddenly paralyzed in her tracks. She could feel the dread take a hold of her body, and her heart lept into her throat as she stared out through the glass. At that moment, she felt completely helpless, with nowhere to run, and her mind whirled with terrible thoughts.

Fast approaching the door was Walter. And she knew that it would be only mere seconds until he was inside the store.


	23. Chapter 23

Ch. 23

As Walter stepped in the doorway and Alinah could hear the little bell chime to announce his arrival, she cowered behind a few shelves, hoping that he wouldn't see her. She mentally cursed the fact that she had a broken leg, as the crutches would hinder her from getting very far if he should discover her. She was doomed.

With each slow step that he took, she could hear his shoes hit the floor, and each _thud!_ made her heart jump wildly in her chest. She held her breath, hoping not to make any noise that would draw attention to her location. Perhaps she would just blend in with the other customers, though they were very few. Now that she realized it, there was no one else in the store except for the shopkeeper, Mr. Temple. This fact seemed to chill her to the bones, as she thought of how no one would be around to hear her scream. She bit her lip and tried to calm herself as she peered through a space in the shelf to get a better look at Walter.

He looked like a completely different man. His dark blonde hair that was always combed back perfectly was now overgrown and unkempt. More wrinkles had formed on his face, as if he had aged ten years since she was gone, and facial hair covered most of his mouth and cheeks. He even looked to be thinner, and since he had always had a fit form, he now looked emaciated, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Alinah almost couldn't believe that it was him, except she recognized the way that he walked and those same haunting eyes that had threatened her so many times in the past.

As she watched him, he paused. He was only a few feet away from her, and her lungs ached from holding her breath for so long. He turned his gaze in her direction. It was too late; he saw her.

"You there," he pointed to her with a loud voice. She almost began to shake, she was so terrified. "Don't just stand there, you fool!" he shouted.

Alinah was puzzled by his order, and she knew that he must have thought that she was someone else, perhaps working in the store, and he wanted her assistance. She prayed that he wouldn't come closer to her and discover the truth of her identity.

Mr. Temple, confused, peered across the room and caught a glimpse of the young woman who had just made a purchase. He felt compassion towards her as he had noticed her crutches and now saw that she was becoming a victim of Mr. Claude's temper. She was probably too terrified to leave, the poor woman.

"Mr. Claude!" the shopkeeper called out to him cheerfully, "I have that Brandy that you like so much! Only a few bottles left!"

Walter turned his head to look at the Mr. Temple, who was stationed at the end of the room, holding up the bottles to tempt his customer over to him. Alinah slowly let out her breath as she realized that Walter was drunk, and the relief flooded through her when she saw him turn around and walk towards the other side of the room in order to redeem his prize.

But she still wasn't out of danger, yet. She wanted to wait until he left to make sure that he wouldn't see her, as the carriage was parked just outside of the door. She moved to a different angle to afford herself a better view of her enemy and to prevent arousing his suspicion again.

"I didn't know that you were in town," the Mr. Temple commented. Walter held three bottles of alcohol in his arms and searched his pockets for some money. The storekeeper's face darkened with grief as he added, "I heard the terrible news about your wife. I am so sorry."

Alinah felt as if someone had grabbed her heart and it had stopped beating when she heard her name. What terrible news? She wondered if Walter had spread a lie about her.

"Yes, the Harlot! Running off with another man..." he grumbled, digging his fingers deeper into his pockets. His anger was quickly rising as he struggled to find his money.

Alinah felt tears spring to her eyes. For Walter to make her out to be unfaithful dealt a low blow, even though she should have expected as much. He would never have confessed for being the reason that she had left. She wondered where his Mistress was, or even his little boy. Perhaps they had left him, too...

No matter what he had done to her, or how he had treated her, she had always been faithful to Walter. She hated the fact that she was his wife, and she had left him, but she had never run off with another man. _He_ had been unfaithful to _her_, with multiple women, before he had found his Mistress.

"How long will you be visiting?" the Mr. Temple asked, hoping to make conversation so that the awkward silence while Walter fumbled for his payment wouldn't fill the air. The shopkeeper had never cared much for Mr. Claude, as he found his temper uncontrollable when drunk, but Walter had been a faithful customer of his for some time.

Mr. Temple crossed his arms across his chest and waited patiently. A frown was set upon his aged features and he rubbed his chin with his fingeres as he observed the man before him. He had to admit that it was sad to see Mr. Claude so forlorn and taking to alcohol every day. Many people had lost respect for him, and so all of his friends and acquaintances had abandoned his social circle. One could not help but to shake their head at his pitiable condition.

"Long enough," Walter mumbled.

Despite herself, something inside of Alinah felt bad for him. She could see the poor condition that he was in; miserable and depressed. He was nothing like the proud and arrogant man that she knew him to be; he was a broken shell of his former self. Had he been in mourning because of her?

She shook these illogical thoughts out of her head and formed her escape route as she saw him pay for his goods. When he had left, she breathed a sigh of relief and made her way to the door. Before she exited, she glanced out through the window to make sure that he wasn't around. When she saw that he was nowhere to be found, she stepped out into the bitter cold and could hear the fluffy white snow crunching beneath her feet. The icy wind stung her face and tears pricked her eyes as she slowly maneuvered herself towards the carriage, careful not to slip on the ice that covered the street.

A strong gust of wind bit at her cheeks, and she had to look away in order to shield herself from it. When she glanced back at the carriage, which was only now a few feet away, she found herself staring into the familiar caramel-colored eyes of her husband.


	24. Chapter 24

**Yay, these reviews make me feel so special!**

**And CrimsonPen...I think you will be pleasantly surprised ;)**

Ch 24

Walter stared into her eyes with an intensity that she had never seen in him before.

"Alinah..." he breathed softly. Was he dreaming? He couldn't believe that she was there, standing before him. No, he could have never imagined her so realistically, and with a broken leg as well. He sniffled from the cold and swallowed hard.

Alinah was expecting that at any moment, he would strike her or his look of sadness would quickly change into one of a violent temper that he wouldn't control. She could feel her strength and courage draining with each second that they stood there.

"Why did you leave me?"

His question caught her off-guard and she stared at him blankly. She didn't know how to respond. All that she could think of was how she was doomed, and she was certain that she wouldn't make it out of this situation alive.

"What did I do?" his voice cracked, betraying the tears that had formed in his eyes that he had tried to hide from her. She glanced at the carriage, which was only a few feet away from her, but she knew that she was trapped. Walter would not let her leave, and she had no way of escaping without him either catching her or following behind. He would not rest, he would not sleep, until he found her. He would hunt her down.

Walter touched her arm gently, and she flinched. Anger began to rise in her as she was reminded of the times when he had abused her, and she inched further away from him, hoping to avoid his anger should he chose to show it. Images of his hand wrapped tightly and painfully around her neck as she was helplessly pinned to a wall flooded her mind, and his touch was venemous to her. "You hurt me, Walter."

"But I barely brushed your arm," he retorted. Still, a look of pain crossed his face.

"No," she shook her head in disagreement, "You hurt me all of those years. I am not going back."

"Please, Alinah," he begged, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her from running, "Don't leave me. I am lost without you."

She cowered beneath his grip, even though it wasn't forceful by any means. The guilt of being the reason for his suffering plagued her thoughts, and she felt sorry for him. She had never wished to bring anyone pain, and here was this broken man who stood in front of her and begged her to end his misery by returning to him. Still, she couldn't bring herself to go back to her former life. She knew that he would never change, no matter how much he begged and pleaded with her.

"Don't you love me?"

She was startled by his words, and she couldn't look him in the eyes. Of course she loved him; once, but that was long ago and he had destroyed those feelings. She knew that saying this would only upset him further, yet she also felt sad that things had turned out the way that they had. Had he chosen to return her sentiments long ago, she would have done everything in her power to make him happy. They would have had a fulfilling marriage, even despite her disability to produce children.

"Don't you care about me?" he whimpered.

She bit her lip and willed the blurry tears to go away. She could feel him pull on her heartstrings as she remembered how she had once cared for him. She had gone above and beyond for him. She wanted so badly to be a good wife, and to make him proud, but she had failed.

"I must leave, Walter. Please, let me go," she stated firmly, hoping that her unwavering resolve would intimidate him. She looked around them, but the streets were empty, with only snow blowing across them and obscuring her view. The wind picked up and swirled snowflakes around them, and she wanted nothing more than to be in her warm bed at the Deberaux Estate. What she wouldn't give to be alone in her room, instead of caught once more in Walter's grasp.

His grip tightened, and she winced from the pain. She knew that he would leave bruises on her arms, that is, if she could even escape with nothing worse.

"You are not going anywhere!" he shouted. "You are coming with me, where you belong!"

He began to tug at her arms, pulling her towards him. If she would not come home willingly, then he would bring her by force. She gasped as she stumbled and nearly fell, feeling the pain shoot through her foot.

"Let me go!" she shouted, tears trailing down her cheeks. The air was so cold that they froze in place, and her hood was blown down so that her hair became tangled and little pieces of ice clung to it. The wind was too strong, sending sheer pain on her face, and she couldn't look in the direction that he was leading her to see where they were going.

"I will teach you to never leave me again, you worthless wench!"

Alinah struggled against his grasp, but with her broken leg, she couldn't do much. The ground was slippery and she was afraid of falling, so the majority of her strength was spent on steadying herself against Walter's rough pulls on her body to drag her along.

"I will make certain that you will never be able to walk again!" he yelled angrily.

She felt the cold chill her to the bone, and the hair on her neck stood from his threat. She would do everything in her power to get away from him, even if it killed her. She could not go back to him.

She deeply regretted ever leaving the sanctuary of Erik's home. How she had taken her solitude for granted! She would wish a thousand nights in bitter loneliness than one night in Walter's company.

I have to be strong, she thought to herself, I can't let him win. With all of the energy and power that she could muster, she pressed her palms against his chest and shoved him. She could feel him slipping on the ice and attempting to balance himself but he fell, pulling her down with him.

Instead of hitting the ground, she landed on top of him, and thankfully she hadn't injured herself further. His hold of her was released, and it took her a few moments to register the fact that she was crushing him. She stood up as quickly as she could, disgusted with the fact that she had been so close to him, and she brushed herself off, as if by doing so it would reverse the images going through her mind.

After she had picked up her crutches and steadied herself, she knew that Walter was unconscious, having hit his head on the icy ground during his fall. She took this opportunity to hasten herself into her carriage before he would wake up. She ordered the driver to go as fast as he could back to Elinor's home, and she didn't look back to see if he was awake yet. She could only pray that he wasn't chasing after her, and she reprimanded herself for being so foolish. Once she had returned to her friend's cottage, she would never show her face in that town, again.

And although she had decided to remain there for a few weeks, she eagerly anticipated the day when she would be back in the protection of Erik's estate and far away from her husband.


	25. Chapter 25

**I know this is a short chapter, but they will get longer. Also, I referenced my original characters in my book "Sight" (the Kinstons), if anyone has read that noticed.**

**Things are going to heat up quickly.**

Ch. 25

After exactly three knocks on the front door of the Deberaux Estate, Mr. Harris answered the call with an unamused expression on his face. He sighed with great anxiety as he asked,

"Mr. Kinsley, I presume?"

The young man of eight-and-twenty nodded enthusiastically and shivered from the cold. He had traveled for miles upon miles, eventually calculating that he had easily spent seven hours on his journey with only one stop, and he was in great need of the warmth of a fireplace. Journeying in such harsh and unyielding conditions of the winter had exhausted him quickly.

"Right this way," Mr. Harris said, opening the door wider for him to come inside. Mr. Kinsley obeyed and was led to the foyer, where he was left alone, temporarily, to his own devices. The blonde man first warmed his hands by the fireplace and then sat down on a divan to wait patiently for Mr. Harris' return.

The Butler climbed the stairs very slowly, either from the slugishness of his aging body or from his lack of motivation, he did not know. He dreaded the thought of what was transpiring. Although he needed help with certain duties that he could not perform himself, he thought that it would be best to wait until Mrs. Claude had returned, in case she had been honest in carrying out her promise.

But instead, Erik was livid with her, and he didn't believe that he would ever see her again. After two weeks without a word from the servant-girl, he had ordered for Mr. Harris to advertise for a new servant, and to make certain that it would be a man, so that he wouldn't be caught up with the difficulties of having a woman in the house. No, he had been foolish once to love Christine, and he had even begun to care for Alinah, but he would not make the same mistake again.

Mr. Harris announced to Erik that the new prospect had arrived, and Erik ordered him to carry on with the interview himself. Erik refused to show his face to yet another stranger, and simply because Alinah was gone, things would be no different around the house. He would continue to stay in his room and he would come out for no one.

Mr. Harris returned to the foyer and stood in the doorway. He refused to sit down, hoping to make Mr. Kinsley feel unwelcomed. After all, Mr. Harris had a bad feeling about this, and he was very uneasy about everything. What if Alinah should return? Would Erik turn her away? Many thoughts raced through his head.

"Am I to meet the Master, himself?" Mr. Kinsley inquired.

Mr. Harris was reminded by these words of when Alinah had asked the very same question when she had first arrived, and he could not help but to wonder where she was and what she was doing at that exact moment.

"No, Monsieur Deberaux keeps to himself. Please tell me what experience you have acquired," Mr. Harris said, hoping to prevent the discussion from centering around Monsieur Deberaux. Thankfully, Mr. Kinsley didn't press the subject further.

"Well, I have served at the Kinston residence for a number of years. They were such fine people," Mr. Kinsley replied, smiling at the fond memories that he had had at his previous residence.

Mr. Harris noticed how proper the boy's grammar was, as most servants were typically very uneducated and reflected this in their speech. 'Fine people', indeed, he thought dryly to himself.

"Then what persuaded you to quit their household, if they were such 'fine people'?"

Mr. Kinsley's bright blue eyes reflected the sadness that he now felt. He stared blankly into the distance, as if remembering something of long ago. "Mr. Kinston passed away, and his daughter has disappeared."

Mr. Harris ignored the boy's gloomy disposition and continued, "What skills do you possess?"

Mr. Kinsley was snapped out of his reverie and his countenance brightened once more. "Whatever it is that you wish for me to do, I will be happy to assist."

"Can you cook?"

Mr. Kinsley's smile began to curve downward in a small frown. "I am afraid not...but I shall try my very best!"

While Mr. Harris had loathed the idea of hiring a new servant while Mrs. Claude was away, he had to admit that Mr. Kinsley's enthusiasm and eagerness would make for a fine servant, indeed. Besides, Erik had been adamant about this, and the Butler knew better than to disobey his Master's wishes.

After announcing to the young man that he had been granted the position, Mr. Harris showed him to his quarters. He absolutely refused to give the man the same room that Alinah had called her own, just in case there was a small chance that she would return. And oh, how he begged in his mind that she would, and soon.

The two approached the door to a room that was not far from Alinah's, only further away from the Master's wing. Mr. Kinsley was given the day to rest, and Mr. Harris returned to his duties.

Meanwhile, Erik was seething in his room as he heard the two men's footsteps down the hallway in the opposite direction of him. He did not know what this 'Mr. Kinsley' looked like, nor did he care much to find out. He cursed Alinah through the thin air for placing him in such a position. If she had only had the courage to stay, to bear the presence of his monstrosity, then he would have found himself a little bit more at ease.

Erik threw his writing utensil across the room, too frustrated to compose. He had found that during the past three weeks of Alinah's disappearance, he couldn't concentrate enough to produce a single sheet of music. He could not imagine that she had been his motivation for the months prior to her departure, and he chided himself for letting such a ridiculous idea enter into his thoughts. He had simply reached a temporary point of a lack of inspiration, and it would pass soon enough.

But as he stared out of his window and observed the thick ice that covered the bare trees, he regretted the fact that he had even allowed a small glimmer of hope that she would return to burn within himself. But this unwanted hope was like the small flame of a candle that was slowly being extinguished by the careless wind that he called 'reality', until soon, it would disappear altogether.


	26. Chapter 26

**I will definitely be working on this chapter to make it better, but I just thought that I should post the rough draft.**

Ch. 26

Three weeks later, Alinah had fallen asleep on the cream-colored armchair in Elinor's quaint sitting-room as the fire stirred beside her. It wasn't until a few minutes after midnight when she was awakened by soft footsteps and the sound of rustling fabric as someone carefully made their way across the room, hoping not to disturb her. She slowly opened her eyes to see those piercing eyes that had become so familiar to her and struck fear in her heart. Before she had the chance to scream out for Elinor, his hand flew to her mouth and he grabbed her hair, yanking it roughly until she stood up. He didn't release his hold on her and tears formed in her eyes from both fear and pain.

"Did you really think that you could escape me? Did you think that you could hide from me?" he sneered, pulling her closer to him and she yelped. The blazing fire that reflected in his eyes only increased the menacing expression on his face, and she shrunk beneath his grip.

"I have disposed of that old hag already, and this time I won't hesitate to do so with you, as well!" he shouted. He hit her hard across her cheek and her head whipped to the side. Before she could regain her composure, she was shoved to the ground and she stared up at him as the tears trailed down her cheeks.

She pleaded with him to stop, but he was relentless. "You are worthless!" he began to kick her as he spat insults at her, and her body shook from sobs as she cradled her ribcage in an attempt to protect herself from his blows. "Pathetic..."

His shoe hit her stomach hard and she winced. She felt as if all of the air had been forced out of her, and she gasped, hoping that she wouldn't vomit instead. He grabbed her by her hair again and pulled her up enough that she could look into his eyes. "And now, I will finish you off."

She could see the glare of light on the shining metal blade that he had pulled out of his pocket, and she closed her eyes, praying that something would prevent him from what he was about to do.

"Walter, please! Don't!" she cried, burying her face into her hands. She began to choke on her sobs and felt her world begin to spin around her.

"Did you expect to have a happy little ending? You must learn your place!"

She continued to beg, even agreeing to return to him if it meant that he would stop. But as she felt the blade rip open her skin, she knew that it would all be over soon.

Alinah gasped for air as she fluttered her eyes open and sat up in her chair, the sweat from her forehead made strands of her hair cling to the side of her face. Her breathing came in sharp, shallow inhalations as she glanced around the room, noticing the fire that had nearly died in the fireplace. She quickly ran her hands over her stomach and sighed with relief when she realized that it had only been a terrible nightmare.

To make certain, she tip-toed her way to Elinor's room and knocked softly on her door. She didn't want to disturb her, as she glanced at the clock and noticed that it was half-past three in the morning, but she had to make sure that Elinor was alright and unharmed.

And then a thought ocurred to her: what if Walter was hiding in the shadows, waiting for her to discover her friend's lifeless body in her room? Alinah shuddered from the thought, and she wanted nothing more than to be with Erik at the moment. Yes, he might have been angry and had a temper, but at least she knew that she was safe with him.

Much to her relief, Elinor opened her door in her nightgown, barely able to keep her eyes open from the heavy sleep that had closed them during the night.

"Alinah? Is something the matter?" she suddenly became alarmed when she had seen the young girl's condition.

Alinah gulped and stuttered, "Please forgive me for waking you. I think that I should return home, now."

"At such an hour as this? Has something happened?" she stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind her, looking at Alinah with eager eyes.

"I should have told you sooner, but the day when I went to town to retrieve those items, Walter found me. I thought that I would be safe here since he didn't know you, but I would rest easier if I was back at the Deberaux Estate. It's much too far for him to ever find me. I am sorry for the trouble that I have caused," Alinah explained as she cried.

Elinor nodded her head grimly, sad that the young woman suffered so much. How she wished that she could do something to comfort her and to end her grief. "I understand. I will order a carriage for you, immediately."

Alinah went to go fetch her belongings and patted a wet washcloth on her face to freshen her skin. She hoped that she would be able to rest enough that she could nap on her trip back, but she knew that she would constantly be looking over her shoulder the entire time to make sure that Walter wasn't following her.

Once again, the bittersweet farewells came and she embraced Elinor warmly and thanked her for her hospitality.

"I do hope that I can see you again, under different circumstances," Elinor said, referring to Walter's discovery of his wife.

After Alinah had said goodbye, she made her way slowly toward the carriage, careful not to slip on her way there. She was thankful that a doctor had visited her a week earlier and told her that her leg was healing quickly, and now she didn't need to use crutches. She still propped herself up with a small cane to help take the pressure off of her leg, but she found it much easier to step into the carriage this time.

As she traveled back to the Deberaux Estate, she hoped that Erik wouldn't be too angry with her.

It was eight o'clock in the morning when she had finally reached her destination. She blinked her tired eyes and gathered the strength to get out of the carriage. Her body was heavy and weighed down with fatigue, and she was certain that her hair was a mess and that dark circles had graced the skin below her eyes.

After she had knocked on the door, Mr. Harris answered a few minutes later. He couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face when he had seen her.

"Mrs. Claude?"

He almost thought that he was imagining things, but he gave a small smile.

"Please forgive me for my leaving abruptly. There was an important matter that called for my attention," she said. Yes, she felt that she had needed to temporarily leave her position so that she could make sense of her emotions.

"I do hope that this matter has been attended to," Mr. Harris replied. "I must admit that I didn't expect you to return. And neither did Monsieur Deberaux."

She knew what he was alluding to, and the dread filled her stomach until she felt nauseous. Would Erik ever be able to forgive her? Had she just made the worst mistake of her life?

"I never should have left. Is it too late?"

Instead of replying, Mr. Harris led her to the foyer and made her wait for him. Alinah impatiently fidgeted and found that she couldn't sit for long, so she made her way over to the window and watched as the clouds would briefly part for the sun, casting a honey glow upon the surface of the ground as the snow and ice glistened in its light.

She took a deep breath and hoped that Erik wouldn't refuse to see her and send her away.

Mr. Harris knocked softly on his Master's door and prayed that things would turn out well. He couldn't prevent the anxiety that washed over him as he thought of how Mrs. Claude was completely unaware of her replacement, who was sound asleep in his room down the hall.

A very agitated and sleep-deprived Erik opened the door. "What is it?" he snapped, eager to go back to bed.

"Mrs. Claude has returned."


	27. Chapter 27

Ch. 27

Mr. Harris watched how surprised his Master had become, as Erik raised his dark eyebrows and took a few brief moments to register the thought in his mind. He quickly replaced his shocked expression with a look of calm indifference on his face and straightened up.

"Send her away," he ordered the Butler with a wave of his hand.

"But Sir, her leg has almost completely healed, and she may be of use to us now," Mr. Harris replied.

He had expected that his Master would be angry, but not so much as to turn her away permanently. He knew the feelings of attachment that had formed between Monsieur Deberaux and Mrs. Claude, and he was not about to behave ignorantly to that knowledge, either. The fact that she had kept her word and had returned to the estate, much less to the Master, _willingly_, had exceeded his expectations, and he knew that there was still hope for the two. If she had wanted to escape, then she never would have come back, so he knew that there must have been a logical explanation for her disappearance.

Any chance of his Master's happiness was now slipping through his fingers as Erik insisted on rejecting her services. Mr. Harris knew that Monsieur Deberaux was simply acting on bitter impulse and how he felt at the moment, but he wondered if perhaps his Master would even regret his decision, later. It seemed to him that Erik had already been decidedly against the thought of happiness, thinking that it would never be attainable for him, and so he had given up on everything long ago. Was it even worth the effort to attempt to persuade him otherwise?

But then again, he had seen how his Master's mood had darkened over the course of the previous weeks. With Alinah's disappearance, Erik had truly been hopeless. Mr. Harris never imagined that it was even possible for his Master's mood to worsen, but he had been wrong.

Nevertheless, Mr. Harris did not know what to expect with the new servant, and he already knew Alinah's capabilities of fulfilling her duties. She had always finished her chores in a timely manner, and her attention to detail did not go unnoticed.

It would be foolish to turn her away, regardless of the personal squables that she had with the Master. And despite the current circumstances, he thought that they might learn to get along with, and perhaps even love, one another some day. Although, who knew how long that would be, as Monsieur Deberaux insisted on being difficult with everything!

"She is of no use to _me_! She chose to leave; let her take her punishment," Erik sneered.

"But she has chosen to return!" Mr. Harris pleaded, hoping to talk some sense into his Master. "And I do believe that something aweful has happened to her, for she looks a terrible mess..."

Mr. Harris thought about her ragged appearance and knew that it was unusual for her to look so disheveled, let alone the fact that she had traveled at such an early hour without any sleep. He shook his head sadly at the thought of what had happened to her. He could only hope that she wasn't injured too badly, be it physically or emotionally.

"And why should that be of concern to me? She made her own choice."

Erik's self-pity rose a bubble of irritation in Mr. Harris' throat, and he took a deep breath to maintain his composure. How his Master's bouts of depression had grated on his nerves for so long! Had he done what he wanted, he would have left the Master to himself, so that he might wallow in his misery and self-inflicted agony, and he wouldn't have to listen to it. But he did not want Alinah to suffer the consequences of Monsieur Deberaux's temper.

Alinah Claude was not only a beautiful woman, but also had a rare personality of which most women, even those in high society, did not possess. The majority of the female gender that Mr. Harris had made acquaintances with were only concerned with vanity, wealth, and gossip. They did not hesitate to slander those of the same sex in order to get what they wanted, and they only showed interest in men who had the thickest pocket-book.

But Alinah was much different; she was compassionate, kind, caring, and had a mind of her own. Yes, she had her somewhat-annoying ways about her, but had Mr. Harris been twenty years younger, he wouldn't have hesitated to take her as his wife. While he had developed no sort of romantic feelings toward her, mind you, he did think that she would make someone a happy man.

And that man could be Erik Deberaux, Mr. Harris thought with frustration, if only he wasn't so stubborn! This was the only woman who had endured the Master's temper, his spiteful and hurtful behavior, and yet she still had felt an attraction for him. Even _she_ knew that the Master hid a deformity, as it was plainly obvious by the mask that he wore, and yet she hadn't let curiosity get the best of her by ripping off his mask like Christine had.

Alinah also knew of his real identity, as the infamous Phantom of the Opera, who had instilled terror and fear into the hearts of many, and still she cared for him; still she longed for his company.

Mr. Harris felt that, though it appeared as if the two were opposite personality-wise (as Erik was the brooding, dark sort of type, while Alinah was optimistic and bubbly), they would balance each other out with time. No one could have been more fitting for his Master, especially since Alinah understood the pain of heartbreak and mistreatment, in addition to the fine qualities that she had.

No, he would not let Monsieur Deberaux ruin his chances!

"If I may be so bold, Monsieur, as to remark that you are making a very unwise decision, and it disappoints me to think that I had regarded you as having acquired more wisdom in your years than it appears you have," Mr. Harris said.

This time, Erik couldn't hide the fact that he was taken aback. He had never imagined his Butler to have such nerve, and in his own house, as well!

"What did you say?" Erik hissed. He did not hire servants to disobey him! Was there no one obedient in his own household?

"I said that you are making the worst mistake of your life," the fearless man concluded simply. He sounded as if he had merely commented on the weather instead of insulting his employer, let alone the Opera Ghost.

Let his wrath come, Mr. Harris thought, but I will not back down!

"And what gives you the right to make such a comment?" Erik gritted his teeth and balled his fists, attempting not to be too loud. He didn't want to draw the attention of either his new servant or Alinah. "Are you not aware that I can be rid of you in an instant?" he threatened, hoping to intimidate the fool-of-an-old-man. It did terrible things to his nerves and patience when someone disobeyed him.

"Oh, yes; quite aware," Mr. Harris replied nonchalantly. "For if you send her away, then I will resign as well, and then you most certainly shall be 'rid of me in an instant'."

Erik most definitely was not expecting this, and while his anger made him want to do nothing more than to send everyone away, he knew that he couldn't. Mr. Harris, especially, had been a valuable asset to him, as he couldn't make his presence known and because of his mask, he couldn't go to town, so the Butler had been very useful in retrieving anything that Erik should need. Also, he highly doubted that he would find anyone else who would keep his secrets in the strictest confidence, as Mr. Harris had done so.

No, as much as he wanted to wash his hands of all of them, he knew that it was foolish to do so. He didn't want to ever see Alinah again, but the Butler had him easily defeated.

"Alright!" Erik sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair. "But what will she do, now that Mr. Kinsley is here?"

"She can prepare the meals and tend to the gardens. Lord knows Mr. Kinsley can't produce anything in the kitchen better than horse manure!"

Mr. Harris furrowed his brows as he thought of the brown slosh that he had been forced to eat the previous day, and his stomach turned at the reminder.

Erik scowled, but he nodded his head in agreement. No matter how angry he was with Alinah, he had to admit that he would most likely starve to death if Mr. Kinsley remained in charge of the meals.

"Then go tell her," Erik ordered.

Mr. Harris pursed his lips, tilted his nose higher into the air, and looked his Master straight in the face as he replied,

"I think it would be best if you told her."

And then, he walked away.


	28. Chapter 28

**And the plot thickens!**

Ch. 28

"Good-for-nothing fool!" Erik mumbled to himself. He slammed the door behind him, uncaring as to whether or not anyone would hear him as he stormed down the stairs and continued to mutter profanities about the headstrong Butler.

Alinah jumped, startled, when she heard the door slam shut, and she could hear loud footsteps flying down the staircase. She knew that whatever Mr. Harris had said or done had upset Erik, and she inhaled sharply as she prepared herself for the storm that was about to arrive in the form of a very angry Master. And arrive in that exact way, he did.

He breathed loudly as he stood in the doorway and glared at her.

"Erik, please forgive me-"

He raised a hand up to silence her pleas. "I want to hear none of it from you! You have caused enough trouble, as it is," he growled at her.

Instead of listening to him, she continued, anyway.

"No, you must hear me out! I know what you must think of me, but I did not leave because of you," she said. Then, she thought harder on her words and added, "Well, it was because of you, but not in the way that you think."

"Oh, really?" he raised his eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest in mock interest. "Spare me the story, please."

"No!" she countered, losing her patience with him. She didn't deserve his anger, and she would not allow him to unleash it on her, this time. "You have made a false accusation against me, and I wish to clear my name of reproach. I left because I could not bear the solitude of my room a moment longer, and had you been a gentleman by agreeing to provide me with company and conversation every-so-often, then I would not have felt the need to seek out the friendship of someone else!"

"Well, as you say, I am not a gentleman."

"Stop it! I will hear none of that nonsense," she took in a deep breath to calm herself, and in a softer tone, she said, "Had I not injured my leg, I would have had plenty of tasks to occupy my time with. I am sorry that I left without giving consideration to your wishes."

Erik scoffed at her but she ignored him.

"I should have handled the situation differently, and I hope that you can forgive me. I am sorry for the pain that I have caused you. It was not my intention to hurt you," she said gently. The sadness in her eyes made Erik frown, despite himself, and that's when he took the time to observe her appearance.

Her usually-bright blue eyes were a dull grey, filled with a haunting sadness. Her long brown hair had been pinned up at some point in time, but most of it fell around her face, looking tangled and wild. Her dress was wet and dirtied at the bottom edges, but most of it was covered by the dark cape that she wore. On top of everything, she looked as if she hadn't slept in days.

Erik couldn't help but to feel bad. He imagined that perhaps she had heard from her husband, and that had been the reason for her sadness. If that was so, he did not wish to add to her burdens with his anger.

He released his arms and let them fall to his side. He glanced down at the floor, ashamed of how he had behaved. He hadn't been able to control his temper earlier, and although she had made him miserable during her absence, he was grateful that she had returned, nonetheless.

"There is a new servant in the house, and he will tend to your former duties," he couldn't help but to notice the look of surprise and then hurt on her face, as she must have realized that she had been replaced. He immediately wished to ease her mind and said, "But your room still belongs to you and you may have the obligations of preparing meals and caring for the gardens when the weather has improved, if you wish to."

She gave a small smile and replied, "Thank you."

Erik now found himself feeling awkward as the silence filled the air. Feeling obligated to make conversation, he asked, "And your leg, how does it fare?"

"Very well, thank you," she blushed and glanced down at herself, hoping that he wouldn't notice.

But he did. And regardless of how stubborn he had been, he had to admit that seeing the colored glow in her cheeks was something that he had missed. Not wishing to stare and to keep himself in her presence longer than necessary, he excused himself and returned to his room.

Alinah couldn't prevent the relief that came to her and her smile widened. The first thing that she would do that morning would be to make something special for breakfast. And she knew just the sort of thing to draw Erik out of his mood.

She took off her coat and laid it on the back of the divan, deciding that she would bring it upstairs later. Her leg was still a bit tender, and she didn't want to trouble herself with the troublesome climbing of the stairs that very instant. She made her way to the kitchen and rummaged for the ingredients that she would need. Thankfully, Mr. Harris had maintained the stock of supplies in the kitchen and she found what she required.

She lit a fire in the stove and ignored the shooting pain in her arms. She glanced down at them, as her dress had been short-sleeved, and noticed the large and dark bruises that showed. She chided herself that she hadn't worn something more suitable for hiding them from the eyes of others, but she shrugged her shoulders and carried on with her task.

After she had set the dough in the oven to bake, she set a pot of water to boil. She stared out of the window to see that the snow was slowly melting, and she felt excited at the prospect of warmer weather. She jumped when her thoughts were soon interrupted.

"Ah, so you're the famous Cook whom I have heard so much about!" a young man piped in cheerfully through the doorway.

Alinah turned around to see a tall man who looked to be in his late twenties. He had curly blonde hair, with a few whisps falling in front of his strikingly-blue eyes. He had a very strong jawline, but soft features that gave him an overall friendly appearance.

So this must be my replacement, she thought. She gave a bashful smile and glanced down at her feet.

"And what, exactly, have you heard?" she asked, looking up at him to see him smiling.

"Many grand things," he replied. He stepped closer to her and bowed. "Jonathan Kinsley, but I insist that you simply call me Jonathan."

"Alinah Claude," she curtsied politely.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. My," he frowned, pointing to the purple sections on her arms, "What has happened to you?"

"Oh," she covered herself with her hands, embarrassed, "I fell on a patch of ice."

She bit her lip when she lied, but she didn't want to go into detail about something that he had no business knowing. No one else needed to know about her husband, and besides, she didn't want to dwell on such dark thoughts, anyway.

He formed an 'O' with his mouth and nodded in understanding. "Well, you'll have to be more careful. A beautiful woman, such as yourself, should never own a single bruise, in my opinion. They are much too ugly for a complexion so smooth as yours."

She blushed as a result of his compliment and turned around to give her attention to the meal that she was preparing.

"I shall see you later," Jonathan called out before he went to dust the surfaces in the foyer.

Alinah sighed happily as she waited for her dessert to finish baking. At least, even when Erik was in one of his moods, she would now have someone to talk to. Jonathan seemed to be very charming, and she was eager to share conversations with someone, for once, instead of the grunts, growls, and reprimandings of her Master when he was in a foul mood.

Twenty minutes later, Alinah arranged three of her chocolate-filled pastries on a plate. She had mixed slivers of almonds in with the dough, and she sighed with delight as she drizzled a sugary icing on them to top them off. She poured a cup of tea as well and placed it on the tray next to the plate of desserts. It was her favorite flavor; chai, which was a mixture of cloves and cinnamon accompanied by a creamy taste. She had purchased it in town when she had stayed with Elinor, and had managed to bring what was left of it with her, and she hoped that Erik would like it.

Balancing the tray upstairs with her cane would prove to be a challenge. She sighed very loudly as she stood at the base of the staircase with the tray in her hands, thinking of how she would make it.

"Do you need any help?" Jonathan asked, peering around the corner in the foyer. He set down what he was doing and made his way over to her. "Here, allow me."

He took the tray from her hands and waited for her to climb the stairs, taking each step with her. Once they had reached the top, he offered to deliver it himself.

"Thank you, but I think that I should do it," she said. She didn't want to anger Erik further by abandoning her own duties, and besides, she could see that Jonathan had been busy with his own responsibilities.

"Really, I wouldn't mind. But as you wish," he smiled as he waited for her to receive the tray from his hands. "And I do hope that I get to sample some of your work..."

She giggled at him and replied, "Yes, there is more in the kitchen."

Jonathan returned downstairs and Alinah carried the tray over to her Master's door. She knew that knocking on his door and handing it to him in person wasn't the best idea at the time, so instead, she set it down on the table and went to her room.

Behind the door, Erik shook with madness as he thought of the exchange that he had just witnessed between the two servants; the way that Mr. Kinsley's charm had brought a smile to Alinah's face. And then, a familiar monster of its own awoke inside of him, and it's name was...

"Jealousy".


	29. Chapter 29

**Aaahh, a third chapter in one day! I just can't stop today!**

**Anyway, don't expect it to last too long :P**

**And I promise that this story will have an ending...just be patient and then your needs for romance will be fulfilled!**

Ch. 29

After Alinah had delivered Erik's meal, she went back downstairs to fetch her belongings. She found that the stairs weren't so dreadful for her to face, now that she didn't need to use crutches. She could hear Jonathan whistling a merry tune to himself in the dining room.

She picked up her coat and her cloth sack and went to her room. There, after she had changed into a clean dress and had brushed the snarls out of her hair, she washed her clothes and lit a fire, sighing with relief as she felt safe now that she was back at the Deberaux Estate once more. After her run-in with Walter, she had decided that she much preferred being lonely in her room rather than running the risk of seeing him again, somewhere else. Besides, now she had someone to talk to if Erik didn't wish to enlighten her with discussion.

She took a few hours to rest, feeling too exhausted to do much else. She awoke shortly before noon and set about preparing a lunch of cold ham, fruit and potatoes. She plopped a grape into her mouth and brushed her hands on her apron, standing back to look over the tray of food that she had set for her Master.

She picked it up, but once she had turned around, she was met with Jonathan's blue-eyed stare.

"I will take this to him, if you would be so kind as to set the table," he took the tray from her gently and waited for her response.

Confused, she raised an eyebrow at him. "The dining table? What for?"

His grin widened at her question. "I do not think that you are aware of this, but my cooking is aweful, and I have starved myself too often because of it. I am famished!"

"But the Master takes his food in his room," she replied, still not understanding his intentions.

"Yes, but is it not allowed for us to eat, as well?"

"Well, yes, but Mr. Harris prefers to dine alone, and usually not at the table-"

Jonathan sighed, seeing that she hadn't caught on to what he was saying. "Will you dine with me, Alinah?"

"Oh," she blushed when she realized that he had meant for them to eat together. She had been so accustomed to eating alone in her room, since everyone in the house had kept to themselves, and the thought of actually having a meal and conversation with someone had been unfamiliar to her as-of-late. "Okay."

Jonathan set about delivering Monsieur Deberaux's meal, and Alinah removed her apron and then set out enough food for them on the table. Once it had been set with dishes, linens, and silverware, she sighed at how lonely it had looked. The table could easily seat fifteen to twenty people, and here, only two places were set.

She couldn't help but to feel guilty for some reason. What she was about to do almost felt _wrong, _but she didn't know why. Erik had never said that she couldn't eat at the table, but she somehow knew that if they were caught, he wouldn't like it.

Still, she kept her word, as she had already given it to Jonathan. When he returned, he pulled out her chair for her, causing her cheeks to redden even more. The two sat down beside each other and began to eat. She chided herself mentally for putting herself in such a position, as she didn't want to give the new servant the wrong impression. She reasoned that there was nothing wrong in having a conversation with a fellow servant, and there would be no harm in simply talking to him.

After she had swallowed a bite of ham, she asked, "Where are you from? I heard that it was a town quite far from here."

"Yes, I resided at the Kinston residence. Have you heard of them?"

She shook her head 'no'.

"They were very nice people; so proper and educated. They were especially kind to my mother. And you?"

Alinah took another bite of meat to gain time for her thoughts. She formulated a response that would both answer his question honestly but wouldn't be too detailed.

"I come from a town but four hours from here. The Man of the House wasn't so pleasant," she took a sip of water and couldn't meet his eyes, but she could feel his soft stare.

"He gave you those bruises, didn't he?"

Alinah didn't respond, but she didn't need to. He could see by the sad expression on her face that he had been correct in his guess. He didn't want to press the subject further, as he had enjoyed seeing her smile since it brightened up her beautiful features.

"Mr. Harris was right; you are the finest chef in town! Where did you ever learn such talent?" he felt relieved when he saw her perk up with a small grin and glance up at him through her thick eyelashes.

He observed the way ringlets of chestnut-colored hair fell into her face and how her full, rosey lips smiled whenever he had complimented her. It was something that he never wished to forget.

"I taught myself," she said, but not in a haughty way.

This remarkable woman did not let her talent inflate her ego, but Jonathan was more-than-willing to shower her with admiration, anyway.

"I should have known that a woman who possesses such beauty would also have equally the amount of intellect, as well."

She giggled and popped another grape into her mouth. As the two continued to talk, he made her laugh with the horror stories of recipes gone wrong and disasters in the kitchen whenever he had prepared a meal. Although at first, she had felt uneasy about the situation, as she cleaned up and he returned to his chores, she could admit to herself that she had needed a bit of banter and light discussion. It had been a long time since she had felt appreciated, and it was just the sort of cure to her morose mood lately.

As she scrubbed the dishes, she heard footsteps fast-approaching. She turned around to see Mr. Harris.

He frowned as he noticed the color in her cheeks and the small grin that had lingered on her lips. Had Mr. Kinsley been the reason for her cheerful mood? He worried that perhaps Erik's cold behavior had chased her away, and now she sought the affections of someone else. How he wished that they had never hired another servant, and a man, at that!

"Are you getting along well with Mr. Kinsley?" he asked. Embarrassed, she looked down at her feet.

"Quite."

A silence passed between them, and Alinah looked up to see that he displayed no emotion on his face, and she envied the way that he was always able to maintain his composure.

"I wanted to thank you," she said, hoping to direct the topic of conversation elsewhere. "I know that I was not allowed to stay without a bit of...persuasion. I owe you a lot for whatever it is that you did on my behalf."

"I assumed that because you had returned as you said you would, you must have had good reason to leave in the first place."

"Yes," she replied. "I know that you are not ignorant of my circumstances, and I simply needed to get away so that I could sort through the mess of my emotions. And staring at the wall all day does terrible things to a person's mind."

He nodded his head in agreement. He folded his hands behind his back and stood tall and proud. "Did your husband do that to you?" he asked, staring at her arms. She fidgeted nervously with the washcloth in her hands.

"I can see that there is no fooling you," she gave a sad smile at him.

"Yes, but I am still an old fool," his hearty chuckle to lighten the mood made her stifle her own laughter. On a more serious note, he returned to his nonchalant mannerism and waited for an explanation.

"The experience made me realize what a truly stupid decision I had made to ever leave this place."

"I see," he said. "Well let us hope that there are no more unwise decisions made in this household."

And with that, he left her, puzzled and confused as to what he could have meant.

The next day, Alinah had taken her breakfast in her room that morning, but had eaten lunch with Jonathan again, this time as they discussed their favorite seasons and hobbies. She discovered that he had enjoyed horesbackriding, and he even once had a white mare named "Luna", but had to part with her when he his late Master had passed away.

He explained that he had often enjoyed watching the moon at night, when the weather permitted, and that was why he had chosen such a name. While she had admitted that it was something that they shared in common, much to his delight, Alinah couldn't help but to remember the time when she had first met Erik as she had looked at the starry sky at night.

The very first time that she had met him, he had been sitting on the ledge of the rooftop in the eastern corner. Once her presence was known to him, he remained silent in the shadows, and she acted as if she hadn't noticed him. She knew that he hadn't been ready to face her, and she didn't want to pressure him into anything that he didn't feel comfortable with, and so she minded her own business and eventually retired to her room for the night, without so much as a word to him.

The second time that she had seen him was when he had tried to end his life. She wanted to cry when she thought of the sadness that she had seen in his eyes.

While Jonathan had carried on with the conversation with excitement, she found that she couldn't concentrate, and so she only smiled when she thought it necessary. Her thoughts had been elsewhere; on her Master.

At two o'clock, she carried the tea tray over to his room and set it down. Erik watched her through the door and the bitter envy that had consumed him for two whole days had somewhat dissipated when he noticed the dark blue patches and purple blotches on her skin, just below her shoulders. He felt the anger rise in him, and he opened his door before she had the chance to leave, in order to find the reason behind the marks.

"Monsieur...Erik...I-I didn't expect you to open the door," she stuttered. She smoothed down imaginary wrinkles in her dress and tried to calm the flutterings in her stomach as she looked at him.

He had looked as handsome as ever to her, and although she did not enjoy being at the receiving end of his temper most of the time, she had to admit that he was still good-looking, even when angry. Somehow his vexation had only enhaced his masculine features; a firm jawline, set, and those piercing green eyes that could make her stop whatever she was doing to look at them.

"What has happened to your arms?"

Instead of sounding concerned about her, his question came out more as a barking command.

"It was an accident," she mumbled, wiping a stray hair out of her face. Erik watched this gesture with intensity.

"An accident?" he repeated.

"Yes," she said. He could see how uncomfortable she was, so he dismissed her.

Once he had returned to his room, he paced back and forth in fury. The thought of Walter touching her was almost too much for him to bear, and he felt an overpowering sense to protect her flood through his veins. If he ever saw that pathetic excuse-of-a-man...he shuddered at the thought of what he would do to Walter.

Before he could let any rational thought pass through his mind, he quickly opened up his door again and called out for Alinah. She hadn't even made it to the end of the hall, when she hastily walked back to his door and stood only feet away from him.

"Would you care to resume your lessons? Violin, that is," he stumbled with his words like an idiot, and as soon as they had left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. Had someone else possessed him to say such things, or was his jealousy getting the best of him?

Surprised, Alinah slowly formed a smile on her face, and Erik inwardly triumphed at the fact that Mr. Kinsley was not the reason for her smile, this time. He could still have the upperhand, yet!

"I would love that, very much."


	30. Chapter 30

**Longer-than-usual chapter.**

Ch. 30

They agreed to begin their lessons that night, but Erik insisted that they be held in his room, so as not to arise suspicions in Mr. Kinsley (for his room was very near to Alinah's and he would hear everything).

She could not wait, and all afternoon she had felt as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Jonathan noticed how she swayed and danced when she thought no one was looking, and he had to laugh at her excitement.

"What has put you in good spirits, today?" he asked her when he could hear her humming to herself in the kitchen.

She glanced up from the mixing bowl in her hands and smiled. He noticed the flour that had been spread out on the counter, and likewise on her cheek, arms, and clothes as well. She had been so intent on mixing the dough that stray hair fell out of her twist and into her face. Even while she was making a mess, she was still beautiful in his eyes.

"The weather is changing," she replied cheerfully. "It has been so cold and unyielding, but it is finally beginning to warm up."

Jonathan looked out of the small kitchen window to see that the snow was nearly gone, leaving the dead grass sopping wet and the tree branches were dripping with melted ice. He could see that the sun was beginning to set, as it was around dinnertime, and he wondered if she had even been outside that day.

"Ah," he said, stepping closer to her. "If I would have known that the sun could improve your mood so well, then I would have asked for it to come out sooner."

She giggled and emptied the bowl of dough onto the floured surface of the counter and then tossed the bowl into the sink. She picked up the mixture and formed it as she began to knead it. He watched her shape it into a loaf and place it in a pan before she set it in the oven to rise and bake.

He clicked his tongue at her and brushed his fingers over the surface of the counter, making a line in the dirtied surface as the flour stuck to his skin.

"My, my," he smirked, "You are quite messy."

She placed her hands on her hips in defense, pretending to be offended by his comment and stuck out her lip as she pouted. "I am not!"

He slowly took another step closer to her. He thought that she looked rather cute.

"You have something there," he pointed to her right cheek, where a thick smear of white had covered her skin.

She took a corner of her apron and brushed her face with it, hoping to appear more presentable.

"Is it gone?" she asked, standing still so that he could inspect her. He took another step closer, until he was only inches away from her.

"No, right there," this time he pointed to her forehead.

"Where?" she asked in disbelief, unable to contain the grin on her face. "I think that you are making it up!"

"Here!" he said quickly, dotting her forehead with the flour that had been on his fingers and smearing it on her face. He laughed when she gasped in shock and pretended to be angry with him.

"Why, you!" she couldn't help but to giggle when she said this, and it betrayed her. "If only I could get revenge, but I wouldn't want to tarnish your clean appearance."

Oh, how she wished that she could get back at him, but she knew that he would need a change of clothes and a bath if she did, and he had other things to attend to.

"If only you could get revenge," he repeated, rubbing his chin with his clean hand as if in deep thought, "But you wouldn't be able to catch me, anyway."

She knew that it was a dare, and his devilish grin only widened as she replied, "Try me."

She dipped her fingers in the flour and he darted out of the room before she could reach him. Laughing very loudly, she chased after him, picking up her skirts with her free hand as she ran into the foyer, where she could hear his footsteps.

He ran behind the divan, seperating the two and chuckled. With each step that she took to circle the furniture, he took another step in the same direction so that she couldn't catch up to him. She had a determined look on her face, ready to pounce at any moment, like a predator hunting its prey.

Alinah quickened her pace into a run, and they ran around the room in circles a few times until Jonathan sprinted out of the door and into the dining room. Alinah struggled to keep up, as she had been farther away from the door, and when she entered the dining room and slowed into a walk to catch her breath, she laughed so hard that she thought her lungs would burst. She bent over and steadied herself on her knees, looking up at him as he tapped his foot impatiently on the other side of the table.

"Give up, yet?" he taunted her with another smirk.

"Not yet!"

She raced around the table and he kept a distance between them. Just as she thought that she was about to reach him, she was frozen in her tracks as a deep voice boomed,

"What on earth is going on in here?"

Mr. Harris stood in the doorway with a very irritated look on his face and his arms crossed across his chest. Jonathan, too, stopped running and the sounds of their heavy breathing could be heard as they regained their breath.

"We were just...having a bit of...fun..." Jonathan panted, shooting a toothy grin at Alinah.

Mr. Harris noticed this, and his scowl only deepened.

"Have you finished with your duties, Mr. Kinsley?" he asked. He could only hope that Monsieur Deberaux hadn't heard the noise downstairs, as he would be absolutely livid if he had discovered what they were doing.

"Yes, I have finished for the day," Jonathan straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back out of respect for Mr. Harris.

"Then you may retire to your room," Mr. Harris ordered. Jonathan gave Alinah one last mischievous smile before he left.

Mr. Harris' pointy nose turned to her, and she glanced down at herself, ashamed.

"I do hope that this behavior does not continue. The Master would be very unhappy."

She nodded in agreement and reprimanded herself mentally. She hadn't even thought about the consequences of what would happen if Erik had witnessed their behavior. She had only acted on impulse and hadn't thought things through.

"Please forgive me. It won't happen again," she bit her lip and he nodded. She made her way past him and into the kitchen, so that she could hide how red her face had become with shame.

Her self-reproof only increased once she could feel a dull pain in her leg. She had been able to do without her cane that day, but perhaps it had been too soon to run, and she limped around the kitchen as she finished dinner.

Mr. Harris fetched a tray of soup and bread for both himself and Mr. Kinsley, so that Alinah would have no excuse to see Jonathan for the rest of the evening. He didn't like the way that the two servants had bonded, and he would not give his blessing in their affections for one another.

Alinah prepared a tray for her Master and brought it upstairs. Erik watched her set it down on the table, and the sight of her struck a painful chord in his heart. She had been covered in flour from head to toe, and she was limping, so he could only assume that the shouting and laughter that he had heard only half an hour earlier had been a game between her and Mr. Kinsley.

His blood boiled as he thought of the younger man. How handsome he was, and so similar to Alinah in many ways; so bright and cheery. He should have known that this would happen. If he could kill the man at that very moment, then he wouldn't hesitate to do so. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of the pestering thorn in his side called "Jonathan Kinsley", but he did not want to live with Alinah's hatred due to his actions. And besides, why should he care about her romantic interests?

He left his food to grow cold, having no appetite, and sat down on his piano bench. His fingers tingled, yearning to relieve the frustration and tension that he felt within himself. The more that he thought about the two servants, the more that his temper was brought forth. He found that his inspiration had returned to him, as he pounded angrily on the keys in song and vented his frustrations the only way that he knew how.

Alinah could hear the angry music drifting down the hallway, and her regret only increased. Had Erik heard or seen them? She hoped not, as she didn't want to hurt him in any way. But as she heard the anger and pain in his notes, she knew that it was too late, and she already had.

Once the clock struck eight, she sighed. She knew that he probably wouldn't wish to be bothered, even though they had agreed to begin her lessons that night. Maybe he would disregard their lessons altogether, and she knew that she was to blame.

As a final resort, she went to her dressing table and opened the top drawer to reveal a medium-sized flat box and a small rectangular one to match. She picked them up carefully and closed the drawer.

She had paid Mr. Harris with what little money that she had had left, instead of purchasing a new dress for herself, and asked him if he would buy something from town for her. He had agreed the previous day, and he had been very quick about it. She had hoped to save the little gifts for a better time, but she felt that perhaps it would lighten Erik's mood if she gave them to him, now.

She carried them with her to his door and knocked. The music had stopped for a few minutes and the hallway had been silent. She wondered if he had realized the time and thought about whether or not he would answer the door.

Erik sat still in silence, contemplating whether or not he would carry out her lessons that night, when he heard her soft knock on the door. He ignored her.

"Please...I have a gift for you..." she attempted to persuade him when she could hear no movement behind the door, but he heard the sadness in her voice.

What now, he thought, frustrated, as he stormed towards the door and swung it open. Alinah wasn't startled by his mood, and he observed the two grey boxes that she held in her arms.

"These are for you," she gave a weak smile, and he didn't know how to respond.

He was somewhat shocked, then confused. He had never received a gift in his life, and he didn't know how to behave about it. He could only question her motives for doing such a thing. Had she pitied him? Was she trying to soften him up so that she could carry on her little love affair without hinderance?

"May I come in?" she asked, peeking around his form. He stepped aside before he knew what he was doing, but it was too late. She had already stepped into his room and was halfway to his desk.

He grumbled as he shut the door behind them and watched her set the boxes down. When she straightened up to look at him, the candlelight played on her soft features and for a brief moment, he couldn't remain angry with her. Curiosity got the best of him, and he stepped closer to her.

"Will you open them?"

He nodded silently, the hard expression on his face melting away. He took the larger box in his hands and she watched him with eager eyes as he carefully opened it. Inside were sheets of a very high-quality paper, much better than what he had been using to compose his music. He opened the smaller box to reveal an elegant peacock feather quill, along with two bottles of fine black ink. He marveled at the iridescent colors of blues and greens in the pen, and all of his anger had dissipated.

He was completely dumbstruck as he turned the quill over in his hands.

"Do you like it?" she asked, hoping to please him. He nodded slowly, focusing on the feather so that she wouldn't see the tears that had formed in his eyes.

"Thank you," he breathed, and her heart fluttered with joy when she saw how awe-struck she had made him.

"I hope that you do not think that I did this to bribe you to continue our lessons," she smiled. "I had thought about doing this a while ago. And besides, the only reason that I wanted you to teach me was so that I could hear you play."

He set the pen down carefully and looked up at her, astonished.

"What?" he asked in disbelief. Here she had that silly little boy to play around with, and yet she still wished to hear _his_ music!

She looked down at her hands and blushed at her confession. "You have to know by now that I will never become a talented violinist. But I knew that you would never play for me if I didn't try."

He closed the space between them with a few graceful strides, and she glanced back up at him as the flame of the candle danced in her blue eyes. He could smell the scent of vanilla on her, as she had changed clothes and freshened up before she came to see him, and he took in a deep breath.

"And why would you wish to hear me?" he asked, almost in a whisper. He didn't care what her motives were; whether or not she was flattering him for her own selfish gain or if she was lying. He needed to hear words of commendation from her lips, to let her soothe him with her compliments.

"Because I..." she licked her lips and hesitated. "I..."

The door burst open, causing both of them to jump and they stumbled backwards to create space between each other. Mr. Harris stood in the doorway and almost wanted to laugh at their red faces and how uncomfortable they had looked, almost like children being caught doing something that they shouldn't. But this was a serious matter, and he could produce no smile.

"A letter for Mrs. Claude has arrived," he announced. Erik huffed in frustration.

"You disturbed us for a mere _letter_?" Erik hissed. Mr. Harris ignored his Master's question and strode over to Alinah, holding out the note for her to take.

"It is urgent. The sender was persistant that you read this at once."

After Alinah had grabbed the note, Mr. Harris swiftly left the room and closed the door behind him. Alinah noted that the letter was from Elinor, and she quickly opened it with shaking fingers, both from the nervousness of being under Erik's irritated glare, and from the urgency of its contents.

Erik sighed impatiently as he watched her eyes scan over its words. His frustration went away and was replaced with concern as he noticed her eyes widen and her face became pale.

"Oh, no..." she whispered, re-reading the letter to make certain that she understood correctly. Her chest rose and fell quickly with her heavy breaths and before Erik could ask anything of her, she fainted.


	31. Chapter 31

Ch. 31

As soon as Erik had seen her lose consciousness, he acted quickly. Being only a few feet from her, he reached his arms out and caught her before her head would hit his chair. He snaked an arm underneath of her legs and picked her up.

What should he do? He weighed his options.

He could carry her to her room, but then that might alarm Mr. Kinsley if he should be out, and the last thing that he wanted was some sniveling little idiot to see her in his arms and to think that he had brought harm to her. Not to mention, the new servant hadn't seen Erik before, and if his mask didn't scare him, then certainly the fact that he was holding Alinah would.

He could alert Mr. Harris, but would good would that do? The old Butler wasn't strong enough to bring her to her room, himself. There would be no point in bothering him about it.

The only thing that he could think of was that she had to stay with him until she woke up. He carried her over to his bed and gently laid her down on the crimson sheets. It reminded him of the time when Christine had fainted, shortly after he had revealed the wedding dress that he had wanted her to wear for him. The memory twisted his stomach with a sickening pull. How dreadful it must have been for Christine to think of the idea of marrying such a monster...he shuddered as he remembered the fear in her innocent brown eyes.

No, Alinah had not fainted because of him, and he had to remind himself of this and to focus on the present. Now was not the time to rehash old memories, after all; Alinah needed him. He watched the color slowly return to her cheeks, and he wondered what had caused such a reaction. Then, he remembered the letter.

He looked over to where she had been standing and saw that it was laying on the floor. What could it possibly say that would worry her so? He walked over to it and picked it up, feeling very tempted to read it himself. He glanced at the name "Elinor" and wondered who that was. Perhaps she was the person whom Alinah had stayed with, maybe a family member? But then he recalled that she had said she had no family...

Very puzzling, indeed, he thought to himself as he made his way back to the bedside. Everything inside of him wanted to turn over the paper and to read it with hungry eyes, but he didn't want her to wake up and to be upset about the invasion of her privacy.

Thankfully, he had kept his curiousity at bay, as her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him. She looked down at the bed that she was laying on and then noticed the note in his hand.

"I haven't read it," he told her, hoping to ease her worry.

Alinah could see the small loops of Elinor's cursive writing, and she burst into tears as she was reminded of what she had read. She covered her face and her body trembled with sobs, her curls bounced with her motions, and Erik felt at a complete loss as to what was going on.

Should he comfort her? But, how? Did she want to be left alone? A million thoughts raced through his head, but they all came down to one: he hated to see her cry.

"What has happened?" he asked her softly, hoping that she would reveal to him what had bothered her. He had never felt like such a fool in his life, sitting there with nothing to say to her. He was not angry, and he hadn't been the reason for her tears, so he simply didn't know how to console her.

"Read it," she said. The sound of her muffled cries as she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face brought him a sharp pain in his chest. He gave her one last glance to see if she was certain about her decision before he flipped the paper over and began to read it.

"My Dearest Alinah,

I have written as soon as I could. I am afraid that I have heard some terrible news, and it is of the utmost importance that you hear it, right away.

Shortly after your visit to town, I had heard news that a man was found dead near the store that you had visited. After you had told me about Walter finding you and your struggle with him, I didn't think anything of what I had heard. But this morning, I was made aware by the gossip of the townspeople that this man was the very same Walter whom you were married to!"

What? Walter was dead? Erik couldn't believe that her nightmares would be over, and he almost wished that he had murdered the fiend, himself. He read on:

"Can you believe how shocked I was? Wait, for there is more! The store owner has been telling others, including the authorities, that Mr. Claude had not slipped on the ice and hit his head, resulting in his death. He has said that he witnessed a young woman-particularly, you-push him, and that his death was a result of murder!

My dearest, I do hope that you take heed of what I have told you. The authorities have been searching everywhere for someone of your description, and trust me when I say that I shall never reveal your location to them, even if I should have to take it to my grave! But I fear for you, my dear one! Please be careful!"

Erik sighed and set the paper down on his bedstand and he then began to rub his temples. Was she crying because she cared for Walter? No, that couldn't be the reason, for she loved Jonathan...or did she? She was such a confusing woman! He couldn't help but to feel envious when he saw how she mourned the death of her husband, anyway.

And who was to say that this 'Elinor' could be trusted? He believed that Walter was dead, yes, as Alinah had had the bruises to prove her struggle with him, but he wasn't certain if Elinor told the truth when she gave her oath of secrecy. Perhaps this was a trap, and Alinah would be taken away to a life far worse than that which she had shared with her ex-husband. Would they execute her for causing his death?

I will not let them take her, he thought to himself resolutely, I would defend her with my life before any harm comes to her!

Still, he could not help but to glance back at the terrified girl and to fear for her fate.

"I...I killed him!" she cried, her hands trembling. She looked up at Erik, her face red as she sniffled. "What will I do?"

It nearly broke his heart by the look that she gave him; one of complete and utter hopelessness.

"They will come after me!" she cried fearfully. "They will hunt me down!"

"No," Erik replied sternly. "You are safe here."

Never in his life did he think that he would be saying that to someone. Safe, in the care of the Phantom of the Opera? How ironic, he thought dryly. Shouldn't someone else be keeping her safe from _him_? But he wanted so desperately to say something of value to her; to bring her relief, and he felt that it had been the right choice of words.

"I didn't mean to...I didn't know!" she shrieked.

"Do you miss him?" Erik knew that it was a stupid question when it had actually been asked, and he reprimanded himself internally.

Alinah wiped tears off of her face and tried to calm down, but she couldn't slow her labored breathing, which, at times, came out as gasps for air.

"No!" she replied earnestly. "But I...I've never...killed someone!"

Erik felt selfish for the relief that washed over him when she had confessed that she had no romantic feelings for her ex-husband. It almost gave him satisfaction, as sickening as it was for him to admit it. He tried hard to ignore his thoughts and to focus on calming her down.

He wanted to touch her, or to brush her hair out of her face with his fingers, but he didn't want to frighten her even more, so he merely stood there beside her.

"Erik?" she asked, looking up at him through glossy eyes. She had stopped crying, temporarily, but she could still feel the dread building inside of her, threatening to suffocate her and make everything spin around her. If she didn't calm down soon, then she knew that she was going to have a panic attack. "Will you...play...something?"

"What would you like to hear?"

Again, he cursed himself for asking yet another stupid and irritating question. How he wanted to hide under a rock!

"Anything..." she choked through breaths, and he was grateful that she hadn't become frustrated with him.

Erik immediately went over to his piano, thankful that he wouldn't have to continue with conversation, as his mouth had run dry of things to say and he had embarrassed himself enough as it was. Where words had failed, his music would succeed, and he sat down on his bench and began to play the first song that came to him; "Music of the Night". Although the words weren't quite fitting to the circumstances (but he figured that she didn't know the song and there would be no singing, anyway), he thought that it would calm her with its slow procession and somewhat dreamlike rhythm.

Alinah's breathing slowed as she focused on the music. It was just the sort of thing that she needed, and she sighed softly, closing her eyes and savoring the notes that drifted through the air. Erik played it with such passion that she felt relief come over her.

He was so caught up in the music that he hadn't realized that, not only were tears silently streaming down his cheek, but he had also begun to sing.

"Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world,

Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before,

Let your soul take you where you long to be..."

Alinah inhaled sharply when she heard his voice, and she could feel so many emotions flood through her veins that she couldn't pin-point which one was strongest; awe, confusion, relief, admiration, passion, love, sadness. Her pulse raced and her stomach fluttered as she fought the urge to sleep, fatigue and exhaustion consuming her.

"Only then can you belong to me..."

As her body relaxed, and her mind slowly drifted into the depths of sleep, she thought of the powerful, sweet voice that sung to her in her dreams, and how she wished that his words had been for her.


	32. Chapter 32

**Changing gears a bit! **

**Let me know what you think. Reviews help support my chapter-per-day stamina.**

Ch. 32

The small silver bell chimed as a woman stepped into the quaint shop. Long, auburn hair that reached the center of her back, rippling waves of thick locks graced her shoulders; a slender and very feminine frame accentuated by her long-sleeved black dress, and her eyes such a soft brown with hints of light green, hidden behind a small black veil. She was in mourning.

Vivienne Daniels paused in the doorway for a brief moment as she surveyed the room. Eyes squinting, she could see that only the shopkeeper had occupied it, and she strode with confidence to the other end of the room, her heels clicking loudly on the floor.

A woman with her beauty could hardly be outmatched when it came to holding a man's attention, and with her charm and devilish smirk, the way her full, crimson lips would turn at the corners, she knew full-well the power that she had over others. With men, she was accustomed to the stares and winks in her direction. One word from her, and any man's heart would melt, in fact; they often fought over gaining her attention and she would play coy and encourage them with pretty smiles. Her confidence made most women shoot glares at her, as even the husbands could not help but to catch a glimpse of her plunging necklines that showed off her womanly curves.

She was ruler over the male sex, and any social event that she had attended was her domain. Should any eligible young woman be searching for a suitor, her chances were next-to-impossible if Vivienne was in the room. She was not accustomed to being denied her wishes, and for many years she had been spoiled by men who gave her whatever her heart had desired.

"Ah, Ms. Daniels!" Mr. Temple exlaimed with excitement. The older man smoothed down what was left of his hair on his balding head and straightened up to look presentable for her.

Only men addressed her formally, except for a handful of husbands who were reprimanded by their jealous wives for doing so. Most women encouraged Vivienne to be shunned from their circles, and she had not many friends in society. Many suitors, yes, but she had been frowned upon for her loose behavior and impropriety. If it weren't for the fact that she had been showered with wealth and extravagant gifts, then she would have been considered a common whore meant to live in the streets. Still, she possessed a certain charm about her.

"Mr. Temple," she played the part and gave him a smile that delighted him. She bent over the counter, propped up on her elbows and giving him a full display of her bursting cleavage. He took in the sight willingly.

"How might I be of service to you?" the eager man asked.

She pursed those red-stained lips of hers and arched a perfectly-defined eyebrow. Even the small dark beauty mark on the right side of her cheek added to her seductive appearance.

"I can think of a few ways..." she purred. She straightened up and noticed the slight disappointment that had crossed his features. "But now that I think about it...who was that woman who came by yesterday? The elderly hag who purchased those strawberry preserves?"

Mr. Temple stroked his chin as he recalled her to memory. "Ms. Hamilton? Yes, Elinor is her name."

Vivienne could not recognize that name.

"Is she an acquaintance of the late Mr. Claude's wife?"

"Not that I am aware of, why? What could you possibly want with an old spinster?" he questioned, confused.

Vivienne slowly walked around the counter, sliding her finger along the surface as she circled it and stopped in front of him.

"Oh, I was just curious. Do you know where this 'old spinster' lives?" Vivienne's voice was higher-pitched than usual, feigning innocence. She even added a small pout to her lips for effect.

"I, um..." he gulped as he noticed their proximity. "She lives on Essex street. The third house on the left, I believe."

Vivienne's evil grin widened. "Such a good man, you are. Your wife is truly fortunate..." she breathed, fingering the dark brown cravat around his neck. He inhaled sharply and she pulled away, laughing.

"That is all!" she called out to him, waving her hand in dismissal as she made her way to her carriage.

As she traveled a few blocks towards Essex street, she contemplated her plan of action. Last evening, she had witnessed the woman with the jar of sweets in her hand and eying a shelf of marmalades. She thought nothing of it. What she had really been interested in was the conversation that she had overheard between two men in the corner behind this 'Elinor'.

"Are you certain that it was Walter? The very same Walter Claude?" one man asked in astonishment.

"Yes, it was. Right in front of this very store!" the other responded.

Vivienne pretended to peruse the canned goods, only feet away from the men, so that she could eavesdrop. Meanwhile, the conversation had caught Elinor's attention as well, and she was standing to the right of them.

"And you say that he had slipped on the ice and hit his head? He was frozen to death?"

"No, Mr. Temple told me that he saw a young woman, only moments before. He thought nothing of the fact that she hid herself by the hood of a cloak, as it was frightfully chilly outside, but when she had left, Walter approached her and the two got into a fight. She pushed him to the ground and killed him!"

Elinor's back had been turned to the men, but Vivienne could see her eyes widen with fear. The old lady had to stifle a gasp as she listened on.

"Did he say who this woman was?"

"It was Mr. Claude's wife! You know, the one who left him!"

Elinor nearly dropped the glass jar in her hands and she quickly scurried to pay for her goods, nearly sprinting out of the front door as she left. Vivienne had been the only one to witness this scene, and although she had wished to remain longer to hear anymore tidbits of information, she knew that the old woman was hiding something. She had to have known more about it, or else she wouldn't have been so shocked and in a hurry to leave.

By the time Vivienne had gone outside to chase after her, the woman had disappeared. She cursed the cold, empty air and made a resolve to find out who this woman was.

Vivienne gave three raps on the roof of the carriage and ordered the driver to stop when they had reached Essex street.

"Stay here, and I will return shortly," she ordered. She made certain that the carriage was not in view, as she had parked it around the corner. She walked past a few houses until a small cottage came to view; the third house on the left. She hoped that Mr. Temple was right.

The white steam from her breaths lingered in the air as she knocked on the front door. Such a small place, she thought scornfully, how could someone live here?

After a few minutes of silence, she peeked through the window but the curtain was drawn. Perhaps no one is home, she pondered. She needed to get inside, to find whatever shred of information that she could. But what if this 'Elinor' was home? She was willing to take her chances.

Vivienne pulled a pin out of her hair and glanced around her at the shining wet streets. Any normal person would not have been about in such weather, for it was not only cold, but the melting snow made everything muddy. One could not walk about the streets without either dirtying their clothes or slipping on ice.

When she had ascertained that no one was around, she carefully slipped the pin into the lock and jostled it until she heard it click. She smiled at her victory and slowly turned the knob, careful not to make noise. Upon opening the door, she closed it shut as gently as she could, to see herself in a small sitting-room. She wrinkled her nose at the musty scent that hung in the air and the cheaply-made furniture. The walls were quite plain, without even a single piece of art, and she grimaced at what few provisions the woman had.

This place is so small, I can scarcely breathe in here, she thought.

No candles were lit, and no sound could be heard. After a quick scouring of the premises, she found that the owner was indeed out. She didn't have much time, as she didn't wish to be caught if Elinor should return, so the first place that she looked in was the bedroom. Such an ugly green duvet, similar to the color of a wintergreen, covered the bed, she noticed, as she pulled open the drawer to a nightstand and fingered through the miscellaneous papers that were scattered inside.

She could find nothing of value in there, so she made her way to the dressing table. Small, as it was, and barely containing any sort of dresses (if she could even call the boring pastel-colored frocks that), there was not a single paper to be found. She huffed rather loudly and placed her hands on her hips. Where could the old hag possibly have hidden something?

She fumbled over the papers on the writing desk and nearly wanted to turn the furniture over in her anger. Perhaps the woman led on to more than she knew, or maybe this wasn't even her house. Just as Vivienne was about to leave the room to search in the sitting-room, a small white glint caught her eye. She stopped and turned around, squinting, as she noticed something beneath the bed. The bedskirt had been caught underneath the mattress at the far end against the wall, and she got down on her hands and knees to inspect it closer. Sure enough, a small ivory-colored box sat on the floor, tucked away beneath the bed.

Vivienne grabbed the box and pulled it out with anxious hands. It was rather plain, no decorations of any kind, but it was locked. She muttered curses under her breath, still sitting on her knees as she thought of what to do. Searching for the key would only waste more time, and Ms. Hamilton might return at any moment. But, if she could get the trinket open, even if it meant breaking it, she could leave quickly, before the elderly woman would discover her.

She hit the box on the floor repeatedly, hoping to jar the lock, but to no avail.

"Stupid thing!" she hissed, banging it harder and harder on the wood floor. Running out of patience, she rose to her feet and hurled the box at the floor with as much might as she could. She could hear it shatter, pieces of the porcelain flying everywhere, and she thanked the fact that her skirts were thick enough to shield her legs from the sharp edges.

In the piled mess of broken pieces, she saw a few notes. They seemed to be letters, and with her heart pounding furiously in her chest, she bent over to pick one up. The suspense pricked her nerves, gave her an unsettling feeling, as she turned over the letter in her hand and observed the name of the sender.

"Alinah." With it, an address.

Although there was no hint of a last name, Vivienne read over the letter's contents. Most of it was of no consequence, but when she read that Alinah had been growing fond of her new location, she knew within herself that it was the very same Alinah Claude.

Vivienne nearly shouted out with glee at her triumph and held the paper tightly to her chest. She made her way outside, through the back door so as not to cause a scene, and returned to the carriage.

"Do you know where this town is?" she asked the driver and pointed to the address on the letter. He rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm himself and the horses in front of him shifted their feet anxiously.

He nodded. "Aye, it be four hours' travel."

"Do you think that you can take me there? I shall pay you handsomely," she gave him a little wink and revealed a small bag of coins from her pockets.

His face lit up at the money and he responded,

"Aye, Ma'am, but I must change me horses fer the weary jorney."

"Very well," she said, entering the carriage.

As the driver went to prepare his animals for the travel, Vivienne was returned to the small room that she had been renting in a run-down street. She coughed as she walked through a cloud of thick smoke and opened the door to the place.

Unlike the large and grandiose estate that she had occupied for the past three years, her home was now a borded-up place that was once an inn of some sort. Many leeches and streetscum lurked there at night, but the small rent was all that she could afford.

The anger bubbled hot inside of her as she was reminded of the poor living conditions that she had been dissolved to, and how, merely days earlier, her sweet little two-year-old boy had been taken from her to live with his grandparents. She wasn't even allowed to visit him.

Her whole world had come crashing down the day of Walter's death. All of his estate, his property, his wealth and possessions no longer belonged to her; even the child that she had given him. And it was all Alinah's fault.

Vivienne grabbed the one last thing that she would need for her journey, tucked away in a small drawer. A knock came to the door, and she promptly put the item in her pocket for safekeeping. The driver announced that he was ready, and helped her into the carriage.

As she left town, seeing only barren lands and groves of naked trees, she pulled out the revolver from her pocket and grinned as she observed the way the light reflected off of its barrel. It would become very useful to her in only four more hours.

At last, she would have her revenge.


	33. Chapter 33

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Ch. 33

The agonizing twist in his heart made it difficult to breathe; his fingertips tingling and his palms sweating. Over and over again in his mind, he could see her. Fear. Anguish. Repulsion. It was something that he could never forget.

Erik closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, attempting to push the thought from his head. Those big, brown eyes, pupils dilated with terror until they had become small specks, would be burned into his memory to time indefinite. It would serve as a reminder for him of what he really was; hideous and grotesque. He never even deserved her love, anyway, but oh! how close he had been to grasping it! He would always remember how she felt in his arms as he sang of passion to her beneath the Opera House. But how quickly his hopes and dreams had become shattered when she had been too fragile and weak to bear the horror of it, collapsing in his grip.

All efforts that he made as he had watched her slip away from him to rejoin the love of her youth had been out of desperation; the drastic fallling of the chandelier, the threats, the kidnapping. He knew that he had lost, yet he couldn't accept the reality of it. He fought with every fiber of his being to keep her, to lock her away if he must, but in the end it was futile. Deep down inside, he didn't want her to despise him, he didn't want to keep her caged like a beautiful white dove with its wings clipped, forever mourning the confines of its prison. Instead, he let her go, he let her be free, he watched her fly away from him, all the while knowing that she would never return.

And that look, oh! that sad expression on her face, her soft and heavenly face filled with tears and pity as she placed the ring in the palm of his hand.

"Christine, I love you," he had told her, tears streaming down his face as a broken man. Yet still, she returned to her Savior, to the Knight in Shining Armor who had saved her from a life of misery with a monster. How it crumbled what dignity he had left and smothered the breath within him. All of her kindness, her admiration, had only been out of pity. It had been neither different nor better than feeling sorry for a wounded and mangled animal on the road, left to die.

Two creatures of the light, innocent and pure, deserved each other. He knew that Raoul had been worthy of her, and he would always be a monster of darkness.

His hard gaze into the empty, dark air was interrupted as he heard a rustling of fabric, and he was brought back to present day. He glanced over to his bed, his eyes adjusted to the black of the room, to see Alinah's sleeping form. His thoughts went to her; how tranquil she had looked. After he had played for her the previous night, she had slept too soundly to disturb, and he was grateful for this, as his emotion had given way and he would not wish for her to see him in such a weakened state.

It was after seven o'clock in the morning and the streams of gold, purples and pinks slowly brightened the sky as the sun appeared. Erik was surprised to realize that she had had no nightmares that night, and he was somewhat envious that he had barely gotten any sleep, himself. He had been too preoccupied with the dark recesses of his mind.

He glanced back out of the window as the sunlight slowly revealed the dry and dead grass below. Here, this woman who slept soundly in his bed had been no different, only her prison had been her salary. Had she not been employed by him and therefore depended on his money, Erik was certain that she would have never have stayed. Perhaps she pitied him, as well, and he had mistaken it for admiration. She seemed to flatter him often with her compliments to his music, but maybe it was to lessen the misery of his existence.

But then his focus lay on the two parcels on the desk before him. Such beautiful, thoughtful gifts. He had never received a gift, and although part of him had been instantly suspicious of her motives, the other part had been left utterly confused by it. Why would she do such a thing, very uncalled for and unnecessary in the preservation of her employment, if she did not truly mean it with sincerity?

"Erik?" she asked groggily as she sat up and rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes. He couldn't help but to smile at the tangled web of brown hair that had fallen from her ties and the look of her wrinkled dress. She yawned and stretched with her arms out, reminding him of the movements of a cat. Once she had fully recognized her surroundings, she gasped.

"Please forgive me!" she muttered. She stood up and gave a small curtsy. "I didn't mean to take possession of your bed."

She bit her lip and rubbed her face with her hands, feeling the internal shame and guilt from her actions. Erik looked just as grumpy as ever, and the sleep deprivation probably hadn't helped much. It was all her fault!

"I don't sleep much lately, anyway," he replied, a bit hoarse. He cleared his throat.

Alinah was completely ashamed of her disorderly appearance, but she remained in his presence out of respect, until she would be excused.

"Why? Is it because you stay up to compose?" she asked. He didn't play as often as he used to, and she wondered why the long hiatus. Was he feeling ill?

He shook his head. "No, my mind has been weighed down with other thoughts, and I fear that the inspiration has been lacking."

He mentally chided himself after the words had been spoken. Why was he telling her this? She didn't need to know!

She could see by the look on his face (and his history of behavior) that he was unwilling to go further into detail on the matter. Feeling the awkward silence that consumed the room, she walked over to the window and sighed. He watched the light stream through the window and into her hair, causing a golden glow to touch her curls, as she stood beside the chair that he was in, her back slightly turned. After a few moments of observing the grounds, she faced him and the sunlight danced across her face. Some of it changed the color of her eyes to a greenish-blue as she looked at him.

"Once it is a bit warmer, I should like to plant new flowers in the garden. I was thinking roses of different shades, maybe some various colors of lilies..." she looked out through the window and imagined the scene, "And a few lilac trees, here and there. Lilacs are my favorite scent," she smiled. "And if the breeze should play just right, I should wish to walk in the garden every day."

Erik thought of how she always smelled of vanilla or almond oil. He propped his elbow up on the desk and touched his chin.

"What do you think?" she turned to him again and awaited an answer. "Much better than the dead vines that surround the courtyard?"

He didn't say anything. He merely nodded as he stared at her with intense interest. The way he observed her made her glance down at herself nervously.

"May I be excused? If Mr. Harris were to catch me in here looking like this, and at such an hour, he might get outlandish ideas in his head."

Erik folded his hands in his lap. Why the Butler would even entertain the idea of a woman spending the night with him for more than what they had done was beyond him. He knew that it was a ridiculous thought that someone would be willing to share his bed. Still, he agreed with her.

"Very well," he said.

* * *

Three hours later found Alinah staring out of the kitchen window with longing. She had just finished cleaning up after breakfast and wiped the last dish with her towel before it was returned to the cupboard. The sun was bright and inviting that morning, and as she had been feeling better than the previous night, she decided that she would take a walk. Some fresh air and solitude was just the cure for a troubled heart.

After she had hung up her apron and smoothed out her dress, she entered the hallway to grab a light coat.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She turned around to see Jonathan leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a teasing smile on his lips. His mood was contagious, and she grinned.

"I would just care for a walk," she explained. She had to admit that he did look very pleasing to the eye with his curly blonde hair, brown attire that brought out the blue color in his eyes, and the devilish smirk that played on his smooth lips.

"Would you care for some company?"

"I would very much wish to oblige you, but it will have to be another time. It will only be a brief stroll," she replied.

She did long for a companion on her stroll, but she knew that she already dug herself a deep enough hole with Erik. It would probably result in the termination of Jonathan's position if the two were seen fooling around together again. Their Master was not one to tolerate such childish behavior, and she knew that Jonathan had other chores to tend to.

He began to frown as he noticed the expression of sadness on her face as she thought of how she didn't wish to be the reason for pain to anyone.

"Is something troubling you?" he straightened his posture, worried.

"Not at all," she gave a weak smile, but he wasn't convinced. Still, she persisted in taking her leave, so he resumed his duties in the foyer.

Once the cool air rushed past her face, Alinah sighed with contentment. The wind was not harsh or biting, and the slight chill to the sunny atmosphere was somewhat refreshing. She squinted her eyes until they adjusted to the bright sunlight that warmed her skin, and she could hear the sound of her feet in the grass as she made her way through the barren courtyard and to the edge of the trees. She stood at the very line where grass became forest, and she strained her eyes to the sound of trickling water. Perhaps, a stream was nearby?

Two sets of eyes watched her as she entered the thicket of trees and the color of her dark cloak, almost black, disappeared among the branches. Erik furrowed his brows with curiousity as he wondered what she was doing and where she was going, observing her from the safe heights of his window. Jonathan watched her in the kitchen with concern. She certainly wasn't behaving like herself, and he was worried.

Alinah could hear the crunching of lifeless grass and snapping of twigs as she walked on. She glanced behind her and could still see the opening in the trees, the estate not too far from view. She did not wish to get lost and was determined to not wander much more, but the stream was just a few feet ahead of her, now.

She smiled, pleasantly suprised at the little haven that she had found. Secluded from view, but not too far off into the distance, this spot would quickly become her favorite. She settled down and sat on a thick log, perching her feet on a rock that jutted out among the tiny stream, and watched the water flow by. The sound of it all; the flowing water, the rustling of trees in the wind, the calls and chirps of birds, made her close her eyes and listen to the music of nature around her. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with crisp air and breathed out.

Being in the calming environment helped her to think clearly, almost purifying her thoughts to match the air around her. There was no confusion in that moment, no anger or worry. Walter's death had first struck her with shock, then panic. But now, she felt the tension in her shoulders wash away as she remembered Erik's words to her.

"You are safe here."

She tilted her head back, exposing the paleness of her neck, as the full realization of that assurance hit her. She was safe from her abuser, never to have a hand laid on her painfully again. She was free from the expectations of her marriage, of producing an heir, of failing everyone around her. She was her own person, free to do as she chose. And this time, she was truly and completely liberated, for he would never come back to haunt her.

She sat still for what seemed like mere minutes, and in that time, she had gained inner strength, courage and a renewed hope for life. She would never let herself be trampled on, be misused, or mistreated, again. Even if it meant that she would have to live her life alone, and die as a spinster, she would never put up with less than she deserved. She was not haughty, by any means, but she refused to justify the violent actions of a man and return to the way things had been. There was simply no excuse for it.

Jonathan returned to his sweeping, but after an hour had passed, he went back to the window to see that she was still gone. Erik watched anxiously for her, for that thin black form to reappear, but he saw none.

Alinah opened her eyes and decided that it was time to return. She stood up and brushed the specks of dirt off of her hands. She cast one last glance at the clear water and resolved that she would return a different day. As she turned around and began to walk back, she was stopped dead in her tracks by a woman in black, a demon from her past, with long red hair and that familiar scarlet-stained mouth that smirked at her.

"Alinah...what a pleasant surprise..." she taunted, cocking her head to the side.

Alinah was not frozen by the look of hatred in Vivienne's eyes, or the fact that she had been discovered. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears and her legs refused to move because of the gun that was staring her down, pointed right at her heart.

* * *

**Who will save her, Erik or Jonathan? Or neither? **


	34. Chapter 34

**Sorry for posting this so late today. I was having issues with my brain and it just wasn't working. It was a real struggle to write this chapter, as I just couldn't form the right words. I will probably go back and revise it on a different day when some mental clarity has returned.**

**Anyway, you'll get the gist of the idea with this rough draft. I apologize in advance to those who will read it before it is revised.**

**This is NOT the final chapter. There are many more chapters to come. **

Ch. 34

Alinah's blood grew cold in her veins, feeling too thick with dread to flow through her body. Her heartbeat slowed to a loud pounding in her ear; a lethargic drum to her execution.

"Vivienne..." she breathed, still in disbelief.

How had she discovered her location? She had traveled more than enough distance-four hours from Elinor's home and six from Walter's estate, to be exact-with only one person knowing where she was. The alarming thought that perhaps Elinor had betrayed her trust sent chills down her spine, the hair standing on her neck, and gooseflesh raised on her arms. She couldn't prevent the stab of pain that shot through her heart.

She looked into the hazel eyes of the bloodthirsty woman only few feet away from her as she silently pleaded for her life. But knowing the hatred that Vivienne had always had for her; the way that the red-head had taunted, mocked, and laughed at her every time that Walter had praised or favored the Mistress instead of his own wife, she knew that Vivienne would not be one willing to compromise or negotiate. Her life was in the hands of a merciless woman who seeked vengeance.

Her mind went to the tenants at the Deberaux Estate. Had they noticed her long absence? She prayed that Jonathan or Erik had seen that she was missing and that one of them would come searching for her, soon. Even Mr. Harris would suffice. But the acreage was vast and limitless, the trees concealing many hidden places among them. It would take hours of combing through the dense foliage if they did not search in the right direction, and she had merely minutes to spare, if that. She was alone, with not even the Estate in view.

How was one to face death? Were they supposed to handle it with a calm indifference, or did most tremble with fear, as she did? Was her life supposed to be playing out before her in her mind, revisiting all of the memories, good and bad, that she had acquired over the years?

Regret. That was the main emotion that flooded her. There had been so many words left unspoken to the those whom she cared about. And now more than ever, she had a reason to live.

"How did you find me?" Alinah asked, hoping to stall what was about to transpire. Perhaps if she bought time then someone would find her before it was too late. Still, with each passing second that no one came, her hope diminished until it was nothing but a tiny remnant, scattered to the wind.

"Your 'beloved Elinor'," Vivienne grinned with satisfaction from the stunned expression that crossed Alinah's features.

Her countenance paled from her betrayal, leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. How could Elinor have saved her so valiantly and without hesitation, to show her kindness and hospitality, only to feed her to a wolf, later?

"Are you worried that someone else will find you? Perhaps the authorities? Well, let me assure you that no one else knows of your whereabouts, and when I am finished with you, there won't be anything left to find."

Alinah shivered when she heard the pistol being cocked, the clicking sound filling the air. She licked her lips and asked, "What do you mean?"

It had been the only thing that she could think of to say, and she cursed herself at her stupidity.

"Don't play dumb with me, you brainless twit!" the red-head shouted, shaking from the force of her anger.

Meanwhile, another person was concealed in the shadows. Crouched down behind a tree, he listened to the conversation and slowly inched his way closer. He was careful not to let a single twig snap beneath his feet. Palms sweating and adrenaline coursing through his body, he watched the scene unfold with concern. The thought of losing Alinah was too much to bear, and he anticipated the right moment to intervene.

"You took everything away from me! Now you must pay with your-"

Suddenly, he revealed himself, but only in a moment's notice, as he seized her arm and fought to grasp the weapon in her hands. Alinah ran to the nearest tree and hid herself behind its large trunk as she stared on from her place of safety with wide eyes.

The gun was now between the two of them as they fought for control over it. A shot rang through the air and the gun was knocked from Vivienne's hand, sending it flying away from her and landing on the ground with a heavy thud. Alinah's heart skipped a beat, the breath held in her lungs as she watched Jonathan fall to the earth floor. Her eyes trailed over the discoloration of crimson liquid that formed a stain on his cream-colored shirt and the air in her chest threatened to escape and betray her position with a scream. She bit her lip and took shallow breaths, too frightened to make a sound. Her lungs burned with the excess of air that she couldn't release, her fingers went numb and tears silently streamed down her face.

Vivienne picked up the gun and scanned the area with her eyes, searching for her intended target.

"Alinah...where can you be?" she taunted with a sickening curve of her lips. She took a few deliberate steps around the perimeter of the small opening of trees, the sun casting a bright ray of light on her skin and contrasting the darkness of her attire. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

The malicious laughter that drifted through the air caused Alinah to shudder with fright. It was nothing more than a game of cat and mouse, now. Alinah pressed her fingers to the bark of the tree, feeling every crevace and bump within. The rugged crust pushed further into her skin as she gazed at Jonathan's lifeless form, a nauseating knot forming in her stomach. If it wasn't for the rough surface of the tree that she focused her mind on, she would have lost consciousness by now, and her vision blurred and threatened to fail. Bile rose to her throat and her legs felt too weak to support herself, but she forced her way through the encroaching darkness of her mind and against the spinning trees around her.

By what she had calculated, Vivienne was at least thirty feet, if not more, away from him and her back was turned. Alinah took advantage of the opportunity and crept to his side, cautious not to make noise for fear of drawing attention. The pool of blood now ruined his shirt, and his eyes were shut. She kneeled down and pressed two fingers to his throat. A small ripple of relief; his pulse could still be felt, as faint as it was.

Vivienne could sense her presence and she spun on her heel, aiming the gun once more at her. Before she could pull the trigger, a black form, as dark as night, attacked her. She immediately released the pistol, her hands instinctively flew to her neck, where a punjab lasso could be seen wrapped securely around the exposed throat. It crushed her windpipe, forcing the air out of her and leaving a reddened mark of irritation on her skin. She clawed at the rope with her scarlet-colored nails, but she could not pry it from herself.

Alinah noticed the contrast of the white porcelain mask, glaring from underneath the black hood that he wore. She watched as Vivienne's face began to have a bluish tint to it, but the ruthless woman wouldn't give up that easily. She reached her hand down to her side, beneath her coat, and felt the cold leather of the sheath that was fastened to her thin, black belt. Alinah watched in agony as Vivienne pulled the small knife from its holder and aimed it behind herself, towards Erik, who had been too focused on holding the noose taught and completely unaware of the imposing threat.

Before Alinah could call out to him, before she could warn him, she watched helplessly as the sharp blade was plunged deep into Erik's side. Her deafening scream pierced the air as he collapsed to his knees.


	35. Chapter 35

**So, this chapter is a little violent, but I don't know why a child would be reading a romance story, anyway. Nothing gory or detailed, just a warning.**

**I know how much everyone wanted Mr. Harris to smart-mouth Vivienne. It would have been very entertaining, but it didn't fit with the plot.**

**A few more reviews would provide motivation for the next chapter. If you have read up to this point and haven't left a comment, please do so, even if it is only a few words. Even one word would be better than nothing.**

**As someone mentioned to me, reviews are like paychecks for writers. So please don't short-change me.**

**And thank you very much to my faithful and constant reviewers. You know who you are. ;)**

**Done with my rant, and on to chapter 35...**

Ch. 35

Vivienne took advantage of her brief interlude of freedom and unlooped the rope around her neck, casting it to the ground. Erik clutched his side in pain and doubled over, supporting his weight with his free hand. Little did she know that the pistol lay only inches away from him, and he could feel the coldness of the weapon once he had grabbed it.

Thoroughly enjoying the sight of his pain, she raised the knife high into the air, preparing to make contact with Erik once again.

"Erik!" Alinah screamed in an attempt to warn him.

Vivienne hesitated before she brought the knife down, and Erik fired the gun at her before she had reached him. It only took one bullet for her to fall, the last breath of air escaped those scarlet lips of hers.

Erik stood to his feet, panting, as he wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. The tears that fell from Alinah's cheeks pulled at the strings of his heart with a painful grip. He made his way over to her and observed the young man beside her, who by now, had grown very pale and his lips turning a shade of purple. Alinah glanced up at Erik with pleading eyes as he towered above her. He would have done anything to ease her suffering.

"He is barely breathing," she whimpered.

He nodded and bent over to to examine Jonathan himself, pressing the tips of his fingers to the icy wrist that lay motionless on the ground. She was right; barely a pulse. Not even one heartbeat per second.

"I will carry him inside," Erik said. He placed his hands beneath Jonathan's back and slowly pulled him into a sitting position, preparing to bear his full weight.

"Are you certain that you are in a condition to?" she asked.

She searched Erik's body with her eyes, but found no wound, as his black cloak hid it well. But she had seen the knife go into him, and the grimace that he gave once he had hoisted Jonathan over his shoulder. He muttered something under his breath and clenched his jaw, but she didn't hear what it was.

Erik's breath became shallow as he carried the man out of the grove of trees and into the open courtyard. Alinah kept up with his quickened pace, and she tried desperately to read his expression, but she couldn't get a good glimpse of him.

She ran a few steps ahead of him to open the front door, and a voice called out from the foyer.

"What on earth is going on out there? Did Ms. Claude decide to go hunting for ducks? Upon my word, I-"

Once Erik entered the room with Jonathan over his shoulder and Alinah in tow, Mr. Harris gasped and he immediately moved out of the way.

"What has happened?"

For being a calm and collected man, Mr. Harris could not prevent the panic that filled him when he had seen his Master place the young man on a divan and he noticed the blood that stained their shirts.

"A Doctor, immediately!" Mr. Harris shouted to himself before he fled the room. Thankfully, Mr. Adams lived only a few minutes away and would be at their disposal soon.

Alinah noticed how Erik winced as he bit through the pain. The tear in his skin was nearly two inches and he could feel the blood seeping into his clothes from the exertion of carrying Jonathan, but he turned away from Alinah and braced himself against the mantle of the fireplace. He stared into the rapid licks of orange and yellow flames and then closed his eyes.

A few minutes of silence passed and Alinah was at a loss for words. Jonathan's chest barely moved, and Erik's dark form standing by the fire as he slouched in pain made her eyebrows furrow with concern.

This is all my fault, she thought. She could feel the guilt inside of herself swell until it formed a lump in her throat that she tried with great difficulty to swallow. Any efforts to do so felt as if she was trying to choke down a shard of glass. Her throat was parched, sore from her screams and cries. She had no more tears within herself, and she was met with complete exhaustion, with only the threat of impending danger keeping her eyes open and her mind alert.

She could not help but to mentally recount all of the reasons that she was to blame for this. Had she not been outside, alone, then perhaps Vivienne would not have had the opportunity that she did. Maybe Erik and Jonathan would have never been harmed. But the thought that plagued her most was that she had brought two people, whom she cared deeply about, into harm's way simply by her presence. Had she not been at the Estate in the first place, then she would not have dragged her problems along with her.

She would rather have endured the hardships and abuse with Walter than to be faced with the possibly that either Erik or Jonathan could die. She wished more than ever that it was her lying on the divan, cold and unmoving, instead of the sweet-natured man who had become so dear to her.

"Are you alright?" she nearly whispered to Erik, afraid that if her voice was any louder it would crack with emotion. With each passing minute, he seemed to be losing his strength, and he could no longer keep a good posture.

"I am fine," he breathed through clenched teeth. Alinah wasn't convinced, but the silence was again consumed them.

Once Mr. Adams had arrived and Mr. Harris had returned, they began the examination of Jonathan's injury. Alinah couldn't bear to watch, and she went into the hallway. She fidgeted with her fingers nervously as she overheard fragments of the conversation.

"Yes...quite intact, but I shall have to remove it...hand me those, will you?"

Alinah covered her face with her hands and let out a shaky breath. How she wished that she could wake up, and this would all be a nightmare! The reality of it was too much to endure.

She heard soft footsteps and glanced up to see that Erik was on his way upstairs. She noticed the way that he stumbled upon the first few steps and his knuckles whitened from the tight grip that he had on the railing. She stifled a gasp when she saw the small trail of blood leaving drops of crimson liquid wherever he went.

"Let me help you," she ran to his side and linked her arm in his. He attempted to pull away from her with a snide remark, but she held onto him firmly. He felt too tired to resist any further.

She assisted him up the stairs and opened the door to his bedroom for him. She refused to release his arm, and his brain was too foggy and weighed down with fatigue to think about it. She slowly led him to the bed and after he had laid down on his back, she could see the faint glimmer of the wetness of his shirt. It was too dark to see anything else.

She quickly lit a few candles with trembling hands, anxious to return to the bedside. Once the room had brightened, she went to him. His breathing became shallow and his eyes barely remained open.

"May I?" she asked, hovering above him.

He slowly opened his eyes and murmured a refusal.

"Erik, I must see it. You could bleed to death."

She decided that there was no time for his arguements, and he lacked the physical strength to stop her. She inhaled sharply as she unbuttoned his shirt, one by one, exposing his bare chest. With each button that came undone, she grew more nervous. Had it been under any other circumstances, she would have been blushing by now. But once she carefully peeled back the wet fabric, revealing the large tear in his skin, she grimaced.

What an awful sight it was. It seemed as if he had strained it, even opening it further, with his physical exertion. Alinah knew that she had to do something quickly to slow the bleeding, as the Doctor was too preoccupied with Jonathan to see Erik. And if she left him there, she was certain that he would die from the blood loss.

She quickly glanced around the room, hoping to see something that would help. She could find nothing of use, and she had no time to search for bandages somewhere in the house. Instead, she unclasped the burgundy-colored cloak that she was wearing and gathered it into a ball of fabric. She placed it on Erik's wound and pressed down, causing him to hiss in pain. She hoped that the applied pressure would at least slow the bleeding until the Doctor was available.

Erik's eyes remained closed, but his breathing stayed normal. Alinah had no concept of time. The clock seemed to tick slower, the minutes passed like hours, and her arms grew sore from both holding down the cloth on Erik's wound and the tension in her shoulders from anxiety. When she was almost certain that her arms would fail her, Mr. Harris entered the room, too impatient to knock.

"The bullet has been removed from Mr. Kinsley's left shoulder. It was shot directly above his heart, but he has not suffered any major damage of vital organs, however; he has lost a great deal of blood. We can only wait and hope that he will recover," Mr. Harris announced, seemingly out of breath. The stress of the ordeal gave his nerves a terrible strain and he felt on edge. "Has Monsieur Deberaux been injured?"

"Yes, a stab wound. He is bleeding profusely. Fetch Mr. Adams when he has the chance," she replied. She didn't know how much time had passed when the Doctor came.

Mr. Adams frowned upon entering. "How is he faring?"

Alinah moved aside for the him and revealed the soaked fabric in her hand. "I have managed to slow the bleeding greatly, but so much time has passed."

She turned away as Mr. Adams cleaned the wound and began to sew it up. She felt nauseous and willed herself to keep her composure.

"If it is any consolation," Mr. Adams stood and closed his bag, "This one is much better off than the one downstairs."

Fresh tears that she didn't even know she had were formed in her eyes as she thought of how pale and miserable Jonathan had looked earlier. It was something that she could not easily forget; the way his bright and cheery countenance, the smile that usually graced his face, had now been cold and expressionless.

"I am afraid that is all I can do," he said. Both Alinah and Mr. Harris thanked him before he took his leave, and Mr. Harris turned to her after closing the door.

"How are you holding up?" he asked her, concern etched across his forehead in harsh lines.

She took a deep breath. "I am overwhelmed."

"I shall tend to Mr. Kinsley. Perhaps it would be best if you rested."

She nodded in agreement, but after he had left the room, she looked back at Erik, who, with his eyes still closed, maintained a look of agony on the good side of his face. Feeling the remorse overtake her, she knew that she wouldn't even think to leave his side until he would be able to stand up and walk around freely.

She pulled the chair closer to the bed and seated herself. She propped her elbows on her knees and massaged her temples with her hands. The thought that Mr. Harris was looking after Jonathan had somewhat reassured her, but she knew that she would not be able to rest easy without someone to watch Erik. She would remain close to him, in case he should need anything.

What a long night it would be.


	36. Chapter 36

**I am feeling rather generous tonight, so here's another chapter for today. I can't believe that I've been able to post at least one chapter everyday since I started this! Usually it takes me a year or two (sometimes longer) to finish a book, as the Writer's Block can last for months, but I'm soaring through this one. I might even be finished with this story soon, and I even have an idea for the next fanfic!**

**Oh yeah, and just to give you an idea of what Jonathan looks like...I imagine Alessandro Nivola in Mansfield Park as Henry Crawford, with the curly blonde hair and crooked smile, only with blue eyes (I would highly recommend googling it if you haven't seen the movie). I guess I should have mentioned that before. **

**Enjoy!**

Ch. 36

When dawn ascended, streams of pinks, oranges, and purples filtered across the window panes, casting rays of sunshine into the room and brightening everything it contained. Streaks of yellow flitted across the ivory keys of the piano.

Erik reluctantly opened his eyes to see the sunlight upon Alinah's face. He carefully sat up, wincing from the ache in his side. He noticed his open shirt and quickly covered himself up, feeling self-conscious despite the fact that she was asleep in the chair beside him. Her neck was craned to look very uncomfortable, and he frowned when he realized that she had slept in the same position all night.

Had she intended on staying in his room for the entirety of the night, or had she simply fallen asleep there on accident? Both of them had slept through the whole afternoon and into the next morning, having used all of their energy on the events that had transpired.

Memories from the previous evening returned to him, and although he had been in a near-unconscious state of mind at that time, he could remember how she had unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers trailing down his chest, as he muttered weak protests to her. He remembered how she had tended to his wound until the Doctor had arrived, the way that she had cared for him so that he wouldn't lose too much blood.

His eyes traveled over her face, the slight arch of her dark eyebrows, the smooth skin and rosey hue of her cheeks, the small curve of her nose, and those delicately-shaped lips that had taunted him on more than one occasion with how soft they had looked; the perfect color of a pink rose that enhanced the sky-colored irises of her eyes. How ringlets and waves of chocolate-colored locks brushed lightly on her face. His opinion of her had improved over time, and now he found that she had become the most beautiful woman that he had ever laid eyes upon.

He quickly shook the thought away.

Nevertheless, he wondered why she had stayed. Was not Jonathan Kinsley facing death in the foyer? She could have tended to poor boy, and yet she had chosen to help him instead. Perhaps Mr. Harris had been taking care of the other servant. Erik knew that his Butler had taken to disliking the young man, almost feeling a sense of protection for his Master, and absolutely refused to allow Alinah and Jonathan to spend more than the needed amount of time together. Maybe this was because he was simply overseeing that their tasks were completed instead of them horsing around together, or perhaps it was because he could detect the jealousy in Erik. He did not know.

Despite the touching thought that Alinah had stayed by his bedside the entire night, he almost wished that she was gone. His mask was suctioned tightly to his face, and his skin had become rather irritated, not to mention the annoying sensation that it gave him. He endured the agitation in fear that she would wake up and see him without it.

Erik stood up and walked over to window, yearning to feel the sun on his skin. How often he had wished to walk about the acreage without fear of someone seeing him. But such a luxury was not to be his, for a creature of darkness was not meant to see the light of day.

Not ten minutes passed until Alinah awoke. Stretching, she grimaced from the pain in her neck and massaged it fervently, hoping to ease the tension. She sat up in her chair and looked about her, seeing Erik standing in front of the window with the light cast upon his face. The sun brought out the caramel-colored tones in his eyes as they wandered in her direction.

She stood to her feet and stepped closer to him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"Better," he replied.

She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, feeling his stare.

"I was worried about you," she admitted sheepishly. He could not help but to be slightly surprised by the genuine concern in her voice.

"Why?"

He watched her bite her lip out of nervous habit, and the urge to tilt her chin upward and to press his lips to hers, just to feel what it would be like, filled him. He had to look away momentarily.

"I thought that...I thought that you weren't going to make it," she sighed.

He glanced back out at the horizon, a small flock of birds creating black silhouettes in the sky as he watched them fly beyond the thicket of trees. "Why did you prevent it?"

His tone was not angry, it was not self-pitying. It was sweet agony that laced his voice, the torturous thought that she might care for him lingered in his mind. How it taunted him, reminded him of what he couldn't have, but he desperately longed for. How he envied the boy downstairs who could hold her affections. He would have left him to die, had it not been for her.

"I could not bear the thought of losing you."

Her reply was like sweet honey to his palate. He could almost taste the golden nectar on his lips from her words as he imagined their meaning. Oh, how his ears had deceived him, how his mind had twisted it into something it was not!

"If you had...you could have...because of me...it is all my fault!" she buried her face in her hands and tried to restrain the tears that threatened to fall.

Erik closed the space between them with a few graceful strides and gripped her shoulders with a gentle but firm touch. He wondered if he had gone too far, but she seemed to relax beneath his fingers.

"You must not blame yourself," he soothed. How strong the inclination was to press her to his chest and to hold her, but he did not have the strength within himself. He did not wish to scare her away, and so he just remained there. But as he could see her tears escape through her fingers, he released her, feeling his own prick the corners of his eyes.

Alinah felt her patience wearing thin as she grew tired of crying. It seemed as if she was a sopping mess of tears, lately, and she wiped the liquid from her eyes, gathering the inner strength within herself to remain strong. She would work diligently to control her emotions, and she refused to be so weak. She was better than this.

She brought her eyes to meet his.

"Erik, I..." she licked her lips, a gesture which did not escape his notice, "I never thanked you for saving my life."

He turned away from her, towards the window, and bowed his head in shame.

"It was not I who saved you. You should thank _him_."

She could hear the hint of jealousy in his voice, and it caught her off-guard. Could she dare to hope that he cared for her?

"No," she replied. She walked up to him and gently touched his arm, urging him to face her. When he looked at her, he could only think of how her hand had lingered. His heart raced to a quickened pace.

"If it hadn't been for you, we both would have died. I owe my life to you."

"You owe me nothing. For you once saved me from certain death, and perhaps a second time yesterday."

Both of them dwelled on the recollection of the night on the rooftop, when they had first spoken to one another. Despite the small voice inside of him that warned him against it, he found himself wiping away a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. She even leaned into his hand from the touch.

A loud and incessant knocking startled the both of them, and Erik's hand flew to his side. They jumped when Mr. Harris seemingly burst into the room.

"Mr. Kinsley is running a terrible fever...he cannot seem to break it," the Butler announced with great alarm.

Erik shot glares at the man and made a vow that he would remember to lock the door every time Alinah was in his company. They had been interrupted far too many times for his taste.

"Is he dying?" she asked, fear causing her voice to quiver.

"I cannot say, but I need your assistance," Mr. Harris urged her to follow him. With one last apologetic glance at Erik, she was hurried out of the room.

Erik's worst fears were confirmed, and any hope that he might have developed for what could have happened if they had not been disturbed had disappeared. Her heart belonged to another, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

As Alinah kneeled beside Jonathan, she almost couldn't brave watching him. His thick blonde curls were soaked with persperation, his face wan, and his hand burning to the touch. A look of pain twisted his features as he shook and trembled. She attempted to calm him with soothing words as she wiped away the beads of sweat from his forehead.

"Please, Jonathan..." she begged helplessly, "Stay strong...you can't...you can't leave me."


	37. Chapter 37

**Thank you for my two new reviewers, 1AmberSkye1 and Summers1! Don't worry, I'll stick to one chapter-per-day and won't make you wait :P**

**Thank you to all of my faithful readers and reviewers!**

**I hope you enjoy this longer chapter as I enjoyed writing it.**

Ch. 37

When the darkness of night fell, casting a thin blanket of shimmering stars across the midnight sky, Alinah looked a terrible mess. Mr. Harris entered the room to see her sitting on the floor beside Jonathan, her chin resting in her hands. Although she had changed into a new dress, it had since been wrinkled from her position, and her hair; a pile of tangles atop her head. Dark purple spots beneath of her eyes, and her face colorless, she looked almost as sickly as the man who laid beside her.

"Ms. Claude, would you not care for a rest? You look ill with worry," he suggested. The soft concern in his voice was touching to her heart.

She nodded her head in agreement, her eyes heavy with sleep. She had not left his side but three times for the entirety of the day, and even those times she did so begrudgingly, so that she could prepare meals. Though she had continued her duties as the cook, she did not partake of anything to eat herself, save for a few pieces of bread. She found that she had no appetite with each passing hour that Jonathan's condition had not improved.

He had become delusional with hallucinations, trapped inside of a seemingly-neverending dream. She could not understand the words that he would occasionally mutter to her, with eyes closed and a crooked grin. She could not smile in return, for most often, he would frown shortly thereafter and his face would twist in pain. Many times she had urged him to open his eyes, to look at her, to say anything of coherence, but he could not hear her. He had perspired so much that she knew that he was facing the danger of dehydration.

By now she was feeling completely helpless and utterly useless, and so she had resorted to a bowl of cold water and a wet cloth to dampen his forehead and cheeks. Occasionally, she would roll up his sleeves and wipe his arms as well, in an attempt to cool him down, but to no avail, for he felt as hot as ever to the touch.

"I cannot leave him..." she whispered in despair. "What shall we do? He has not broken the fever, and he has not had anything to drink in days..."

Mr. Harris frowned with sympathy at her. Though he did not wish to admit it, he felt sorry for the poor girl, as she had obviously been in agony at Jonathan's expense.

"I will watch him. Since he cannot seem to break the fever himself, I have fetched some ice. It is the only thing that we can do, besides wait, and perhaps it might work."

She did not allow herself to hope; she couldn't bear the disappointment. If the ice would not help him, then nothing would. She knew what Mr. Harris was saying without actually speaking the words: Jonathan was probably going to die. At the thought, her lungs ached, her throat was sore, her eyes burned, but she could not form any tears. She was beyond the point of exhaustion, and if she did not rest soon, then she knew that she herself would fall ill.

Reluctantly, she stood to her feet, feeling weak and dizzy. She rubbed her temples in an attempt to make the room stop spinning before her.

"Are you alright? Should I fetch the Doctor?"

"No," she replied, straightening herself up. She excused herself and went upstairs.

Once she reached her room, she hadn't the strength to change clothes. She collapsed on the bed with a loud sigh, and almost instantly fell asleep when her head hit the pillow.

The light shining on her face forced her to open her eyes. She blinked and squinted against the sunshine that streamed through her window and put a hand in front of her face to shield herself. She sat up and noticed the dull ache in her head. As if concurring, her stomach gave a loud growl and she placed her hands on her abdomen, hoping to silence the embarrassing noise. How long had she been asleep? One day? Two? Or more? She could not tell, but she felt well-rested.

She made her way over to the dressing table and opened the drawer, frowning when she saw the only clean dress that she had left; the brown one. How tired she was of wearing the same few clothes over and over again, needing to wash them nearly every day. Perhaps she would ask Erik for an advance in salary so that she might purchase a few dresses.

After she had combed the tangles out of her hair, she decided to leave it down (which was something that she never did, but she was too careless to style it). She glanced out of her window and noticed how sunny it was outside. The warm rays of sunlight looked inviting, and she thought that perhaps she might take a walk later that day. She resolved, however; that she would not venture beyond the courtyard. She shuddered at the thought of what had happened in among the trees, and the little creek that she had discovered to be a place of serenity she now felt to be a painful reminder of the two men who were injured because of her.

Upon entering the foyer, she noticed that the color had returned to Jonathan's cheeks, leaving his skin with a beige tint to it. His once purplish-blue lips had returned to their normal shade, and a serene expression crossed his features.

"The fever has broken," Mr. Harris told her.

Alinah could feel the relief wash over her, and she couldn't prevent the smile that played upon her lips.

"I shall make breakfast!" she called out to him before she hurried to the kitchen.

She fumbled to tie her apron around her waist, her hands trembling with the excitement of a renewed hope. The thought of seeing Jonathan recover gave her such delight, such joy, that she had to take a deep breath to calm herself.

After she had prepared a meal of brioche smothered in raspberry marmalade with a side of ripened fruit, she brought a tray upstairs. As she inched her way closer to Erik's door, he could see the glow to her complexion and the way that her mouth curved upward. He could only assume that things had improved downstairs.

Once she had placed the tray down on the table, he opened the door.

"Erik..." her eyes fluttered as she nearly jumped out of her skin. She had not expected him.

"Your mood has improved, I see," he commented dryly. How he wished to be the reason for her happiness. With each second that he contemplated the young man downstairs, he grew bitter.

"His fever has broken. I think he will recover," she replied with enthusiasm.

Erik eyed the tray of food, unable to meet her eyes.

"You once said that you wished to plant a garden in the courtyard. Does that still appeal to you?" he asked.

She could see no hint of emotion on his face, and she wondered why his mood had been so sullen. It couldn't be because he was envious of the time that she had spent looking after Jonathan, could it be? No, what a ridiculous thought, she told herself.

"Yes."

"I have arranged for the flowers to arrive this afternoon. You may choose whichever you like."

"Really?" her face lit up with a large grin.

He could not help but to catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, and his chest began to swell with pride. He could not allow himself to get too carried away, however; for it was the flowers that she anticipated, and nothing else.

"I thought that you could use a bit of a distraction from the troubles of this place. And besides, it is rather depressing to look upon the dead plants outside of my window."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed.

She wanted to throw her arms around him in embrace to show her appreciation, but she knew that such a gesture was both improper and probably unwanted, so her arms remained at her sides. On a more serious note, she asked, "Are you healing well?"

"Very," he replied. He was still sore, but nothing was infected. He felt his strength return to him, and even the inspiration to compose and play, greatly to his relief.

"That is wonderful news," she said, her eyes bright and full of life.

He dismissed her and she retreated downstairs, leaving him with the satisfaction that he at least had added to her joy.

It was half-past one o'clock in the afternoon and lunch had been served. Alinah found herself cleaning up and preparing the tea for her Master early. Should the flowers arrive at any moment, she wanted to be prepared to tend to them immediately.

"He is awake," Mr. Harris announced in the doorway of the kitchen.

Alinah's countenance brightened, and she immediately arranged a pitcher of cold water and a few glasses on a tray, which she brought with her into the foyer.

"Ah, so you have finally decided to grace us with your company!" she teased.

She placed the tray down on the table in front of him and poured a glass of water. Jonathan appeared to be well-rested, but he was still feeling weak and sore. A grin tugged at his lips as his crystal-blue eyes stared at her.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," he replied with a hoarse voice and a weak smile. He cleared his throat, but felt the sharp pain against his vocal chords. Alinah noticed how he grimaced, but tried to smile despite this.

She helped him to sit up and he inhaled sharply from the pain in his shoulder. She muttered a quick apology and grabbed the glass of water.

"Here, drink," she commanded, holding it to his lips. He had no strength to move on his own, but he could tilt his head. She watched him drink the entire glass quickly, so she poured another. This time, she urged him to pace himself so that he would not become nauseous.

Once his sore throat had improved, his smile had returned. She had to admire the fact that, even despite the immense amount of pain that he was in, he could still maintain his cheerful demeanor.

After she had made certain that he did not require anything at the moment, she sat down on the divan across from him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"How could one not be overjoyed when _you_ are in the room?"

Blushing, she glanced down at her folded hands in her lap and rubbed her thumb against the back of her hand. He noticed how her hair had been let loose, cascading down her back; an observation which delighted him.

"So," he noticed her shyness, "How does Mr. Harris care for playing the part of my nursemaid? I can imagine him scowling at me and plotting revenge as I sleep."

Alinah laughed; a light airy sound that filled his ears.

"Yes, I imagine so."

For the rest of the day, Mr. Harris had returned to provide a dull company for Jonathan, and to serve as a division between the two servants. Whenever he had left the room momentarily, Alinah would sneak in to converse with the patient, trying to stifle her giggles as best as she could. If she could hear the Butler's footsteps, she would straighten up and pretend to be dusting a random item, although she felt sorry for the poor vase that she had dusted violently for the same half hour without Mr. Harris' notice.

It was exactly four o'clock when a knock came to the front door. Alinah had been washing her garments, when Mr. Harris called out for her. She raced down the stairs and to the door, curious as to who it could be.

But no one stood on the other side. Seeing her confusion, Mr. Harris encouraged her to step outside.

"To your left," he told her, remaining by the door.

There were carriages, four to be exact. Three of them held bushes, plants, and shrubbery. Upon closer inspection, she noted that they were rose bushes, lilac trees, iris and lily bulbs, among other things. None of them were blooming, as she knew that she would need to transplant them and to care for them before they would produce, but she was surprised nonetheless. She had never expected Erik to have gotten her the very plants that she had wished to use in the courtyard, and so many, at that!

The drivers began to unload the carriages and asked her where to place them. She pointed over to an area in the courtyard, where she would tend to them afterwards. She knew that she had a lot of work ahead of her, especially since she would need to uproot all of the old and dead vines that had already existed among the water fountain, but she was eager to take on the challenge.

What shocked her most of all, however; was the last carriage that she saw. She gasped and walked closer to it, observing the contents of it. Roses of every kind; red, pink, white, and yellow; Tiger Lilies and pink, white, and orange lilies; Calla Lilies, Bearded Irises and Chrysanthemums, blooming and overflowing!

"What is this?" she turned to the man who had tended to the carriage. She knew that she wouldn't be able to plant these flowers and also noticed how their stems were cut so that their roots were lacking.

"The Master of the House has ordered that these be placed in vases and brought inside," the middle-aged man replied.

Alinah could not describe what she was feeling as she watched the bouquets of flowers, one by one, being carried inside. Each person asked her where they were to be placed, and she eagerly found surfaces and spots that would hold them. She walked over to a vase of calla lilies and smelled their sweet fragrance, softly caressing the silky white petals.

Erik's kind gesture brought tears to her eyes. She never thought that he had it in him.

After she had composed herself, she made her way upstairs and knocked on Erik's door. When he answered, he was pleasantly surprised by the wide grin on her face.

"May I come in?" she asked. He opened the door wider and she walked over to his window. He closed the door and stared at her, waiting for what she had to say.

She stared down at the courtyard, where the new plants awaited her. She could envision where each one would go, and how they would look once they bloomed. She turned around to see Erik, still standing close to the door with a look of uncertainty on his face. He was not sure what to expect.

With a few quick strides, she closed the space between them and enveloped him in an embrace. Startled by her boldness but more the fact that her arms were wrapped around him, he glanced down to see the top of her brown hair, her face buried in his chest. Her touch was warm and soothing, so comforting. He swallowed the lump in his throat and felt his heart quicken in his chest.

"Thank you..." she whispered. He could feel her warm breath through his shirt.

After a few seconds, she pulled away. Regret traced her features, her brows furrowing, and he froze in place, wondering if she had realized what she had done. Would she scream or run away from him?

"I...I'm sorry..." she stuttered. "Did I hurt you?"

He was now astonished and at a loss for words. Instead of recognizing that she had embraced a monster, instead of shrieking in terror or exposing her repulsion, she was worried that she had caused him pain? Yes, his side had hurt a little from the contact, but the delight from the warmth of her body had far outweighed any pain that he had endured.

He shook his head, unable to say anything else, but she was relieved nonetheless. Before he could form the words on his lips, her name was called. She apologized and thanked him once more before she left, leaving him the most confused and surprised that he had ever been.

Still, his lips turned upward in a smile as he glanced down at himself and remembered the feeling of her pressed against him. It was something that he would never forget.


	38. Chapter 38

**I might post another chapter today, but no promises.**

**Reya-I'm not sure who's windpipe you're referring to...Vivienne was choked, but not long enough to do much damage. Jonathan had a sore throat, but he was dehydrated. He was shot in the shoulder.**

**For inspiration, I watched POTO last night. You can all probably concur with me when I say that Gerard Butler is so drool-worthy as Erik! Yum! I wonder if I'm the only one who gets somewhat depressed that there seem to be no men like that in the world and that the Phantom doesn't exist? *Sigh* Oh, well, guess I will just have to enjoy the eyecandy.**

**Thanks for the reviews. Enjoy.**

Ch. 38

Cool and soft, with an earthy scent to it. Alinah dug her hands deeper into the freshly-turned soil and enjoyed the cold feeling on her skin. Sitting on her knees, with strands of hair falling around her face and swaying with every bit of movement, and dirt covering her apron, dress, and cheeks, she patted the spot around the rose bush to keep the plant in place. Sighing, she wiped the perspiration off of her forehead with her arm; her hands and fingernails being the most dirtied that they had ever been. She rose to her feet, took a few steps away from the bush, and smiled at her work.

It took an hour-and-a-half to uproot and pile all of the dead branches, vines, and bushes in the courtyard, and already, she had spent a little over three hours transplanting the new arrivals. She had only taken a small rest to eat, and she had served leftovers for dinner in fear that she would run out of daylight for her task. Glancing at the horizon, she could see that the sun was setting and disappearing quickly as it strewed golden tones across the sky. How beautiful it was, yet inconvenient to her eyesight. Thankfully, she didn't have many bushes and bulbs left to plant.

Erik watched her through his window with a curious fascination as she walked over to the shrinkening pile of shrubbery and hauled yet another bush to the location that she had desired. In just the course of an afternoon, she had already improved the courtyard greatly, and although the plants were not blooming, the bright green colors seemed to bring the place to life. One thing was for certain: not only was she the most confusing woman that he had ever met, but also the most hard-working.

As she dug a hole for the small lilac tree, he noticed the way that her eyes would occasionally wander over to the same grove of trees in the distance, and he wondered what she was thinking of. All day, she could not help but to reminded of what had happened near the creek, and a chill not resulting from the wind would creep down her spine. She had to remind herself that Vivienne was gone, and no one was there. But she could not help but to wonder, would anyone else come for her?

She pushed the thought out of her mind and focused on the task-at-hand. She would not allow her demons of the past to ruin the joy that she had while transforming the grounds into a garden. She wanted to look back at her efforts with appreciation and delight, not to remember the bad things that had happened in the forest.

When half-past eight o'clock rolled around, she found that she could barely see anything around her as the blackened sky covered her surroundings with darkness. She was thankful that she was finishing with her last plant and had managed to accomplish everything in one day. Had she not been able to, she feared that the plants would have gone to waste without water and soil.

She patted the last bit of soil down and vowed that she would return in the morning to water everything. Upon standing, she found that her arms and legs hurt, especially her knees, and she was relieved that she was finished. She made her way inside, and upon opening the front door, she was met with the sweet aroma of the bouquets of flowers and she smiled as she had remembered the surprise that she had received that day. She took off her dirtied shoes so as not to trail soil into the house and went to check on Jonathan.

He was awake, and reading a book. He must have resorted to reading, rather than Mr. Harris' glare throughout the day. He smiled and set the book down when he noticed her in the doorway. Mr. Harris was nowhere to be seen.

"I see you have an admirer," Jonathan said, referring to the bunches of flowers that had filled the foyer. It had not been the only room to contain them, for there were so many. The more that he had stared at them all day, the more that he had become envious of their sender. If only he had had the wealth to flaunt his affections for Ms. Claude, then perhaps there would be no rival to send her flowers!

Alinah blushed at the meaning of his comment, but she knew better. Although she had not been certain as to why Erik had purchased fresh flowers, or so many at that, she highly doubted that it was because of any romantic or affectionate gesture. It was probably a token of appreciation for the hard work that she was putting into the garden, and he knew that she liked flowers. Or perhaps he simply wanted to freshen up the place.

"Not an admirer," she replied. She could feel the twinge of disappointment at her own words, as she wished it to be otherwise.

"If it is not a suitor, then who would go through the trouble of ordering so many flowers? What reason would the Master have for these, if he does not ever leave his room?"

Alinah felt herself becoming uneasy at the direction that the topic of conversation was heading, and she silently hoped that he would not pursue it further. But, he did.

"Do you know anything of the Master? Why he refuses to show himself?"

She thought of the many reasons: because he had a deformity that prevented others from seeing beyond vanity, because he has not known love or kindness, because the world is afraid of him and cannot understand him, because he has been rejected and humiliated by the woman he loved...she felt herself becoming angry as she dwelled on the injustices that Erik had faced.

"He has his reasons, and it is not in our place to question them," she replied as calmly as she could. She was not upset with Jonathan, for he had only been naturally curious, but she did not like to think about Erik's suffering.

"You are right," he sighed, nodding his head in agreement, "I apologize."

Alinah climbed the stairs, gritting her teeth through the pain of her aching joints. She reminded herself that it would all be worth it in the end, as she would be able to walk the grounds among beautiful flowers. She immediately changed clothes and washed her dress after she had entered her room, and she grumbled when she could not get all of the stains out of it. Now, she was down to two dresses.

Before she extinguished the candles in her room, a small piece of paper caught her eye. On top of her bedstand stood a very large bouquet of white Calla Lilies that she had picked out among the other flowers for herself, but beside it was a note. She observed the red skull seal on it.

She opened it up to read:

"You have done well. I look forward to seeing the results of your efforts with great interest."

There didn't need to be a signature for her to know who it was from. She grinned to herself. Never had she received praise from Erik, and she tucked away the letter in a drawer for safekeeping before she went to sleep.

The next morning, she woke up bright and early for the day. After she had thoroughly watered the garden, she set about to making breakfast as the clock struck nine.

"My, I think that your complexion is even brighter than the sun on this fine morning!" Jonathan said as he stood in the doorway.

Surprised, Alinah turned around to see him in light grey attire, with a sling around his left arm. She had not expected him to be up and walking, yet, as it had only been little over a week since he had broken his fever.

"Should you be walking?" she asked with concern. She placed the pastries in the oven and brushed her hands off on a washcloth.

"I am fine," he chuckled. "It is my shoulder that is injured, not my legs. Besides, would you have me remain under the scrutiny of Mr. Harris for yet another day? That man should have been employed as an Inspector, for though he is quiet and cold, his demeanor is intimidating. And I shudder to think of his interrogation skills. I am certain that he could get any criminal, guilty or not, to consent to confession in order to spare themselves of his unyielding stare."

Alinah could not help but to laugh loudly. She was rather fond of Mr. Harris and although at first he had appeared emotionless and dry, she had since learned that he was rather whitty and humorous, nevertheless; she found Jonathan's opinion of him to be hilarious.

Once their laughter had died down, he glanced out of the window and toward the newly-planted garden.

"I should like to see your garden, later. Would you care to join me for a stroll this afternoon?"

"I will probably already be out there, myself," she admitted.

"Excellent! Then, I shall see you there".

Around three o'clock in the afternoon, as Jonathan finished the page of his book that he had been reading, Mr. Harris appeared in the doorway of the foyer.

"A letter for you," he announced in a monotone voice.

With great interest, Jonathan was handed the note. His anxiousness and excitement grew as he eyed the letter. He had been expecting a letter from his mother any day, and he looked forward to hearing from her.

He ripped open the wax seal with a smile on his face and unfolded the paper. As his eyes scanned the page, Mr. Harris noticed that a look of confusion crossed the young man's features as he furrowed his brows and re-read the writing. After minutes passed by, he at last set the letter down in his lap, shocked, and his face completely blanched. He had not been expecting _this_.


	39. Chapter 39

**Finally, getting somewhere! **

**This chapter doesn't do this story justice, as the writing is lacking, but I'm just too eager to get it out there and see what you think!**

Ch. 39

Alinah sat on a marbled-stone bench in the courtyard as she admired her work. Not only had she planted new foliage so that the space was no longer overgrown and lifeless, but she had also washed all of the benches and scrubbed the dirt off of the dormant water fountain. Perhaps, with Mr. Harris' assistance, she could get it running again. She would enjoy walking among the beautiful flowers and hearing the trickling of the fountain when everything was complete.

She heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see Jonathan. Instead of a smile on his face, he looked rather troubled by a thought that had plagued him for the past hour.

"Is there something the matter?" she asked, worried.

"I have terrible news," he replied sadly.

His anxiety was so out-of-character for him that she wan't quite certain how to respond. She almost dreaded what he had to say, for whatever it was had the capability to depress the usually-cheerful Jonathan, and she knew that it had to be awful.

"Sit," she urged him softly.

She patted the cold marble space beside her and he obliged. The two sat silently as she waited for him to begin.

"I have received a letter from my mother," he said.

"Oh?"

"Yes," he replied.

He sighed deeply and ran his fingers over his hair as she waited for him to continue.

"She is very ill. She is dying, Alinah."

The despair in his voice moved her to pity and she frowned. She could see how difficult it was for him to maintain his composure, and she placed a comforting hand on his good shoulder. He placed a hand on top of hers and rubbed her skin with his thumb.

Erik watched the gesture from his room and his fists began to curl. The way that Jonathan looked at her, how he touched her, how she comforted him...it was the rooftop scene between Christine and Raoul all over again and he felt the old wound being reopened. Still, he could not look away. He had to see how Alinah would respond.

"I am so sorry," she nearly whispered.

Her hand fell from his shoulder and into her lap, feeling a bit uncomfortable with their intimacy. Jonathan did not seem to notice this, as he was forming the right words to say in his mind.

"I must quit the Deberaux Estate. She needs me..." he could barely say the words and tears blurred his eyes, "during her final days."

He refused to let the tears fall. Perhaps something good could come out of this, after all, he thought, as he remembered why he had ventured into the garden to see her in the first place. He tried not to develop too much hope, as he still had yet to ask her, and the longer that he thought about it, the more nervous he had become.

"I understand," Alinah nodded. "I will certainly miss your company."

"That is what I came here to speak to you about," he admitted. He found himself too anxious to sit down, and so he stood up and fidgeted with his fingers nervously. Alinah felt unsure about his behavior, and she became on-edge when she saw how uncomfortable he was.

He walked over to her and grasped her hands in his own. Though they were warm, she did not feel comfortable with the contact, but she did not want to hurt his feelings by pulling away, so she left them.

Erik wanted to kill the man and he hissed profanities under his breath, even going so far as to slam his fist down on his desk. How dare Jonathan, a mere servant, take such liberties with her!

But, it got worse. He nearly went mad as he watched the young man bow down to one knee, kissing the back of her hand. And although he couldn't hear what they were saying, he knew what was happening.

"Alinah..." Jonathan breathed as he looked up at her. "You have become so dear to me that I do not wish to part from you. You are an extraordinary woman, and I feel that we are meant for each other. I humbly ask that you accompany me back to my home...as my wife."

Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what he had just asked her. Had she heard correctly? Was she mistaken? No, for he was still down on one knee and holding her hand. No, this must be a terrible nightmare, she thought. How could she break his heart? How would she tell him of her true feelings?

"I..." she licked her lips, feeling breathless.

"I know that it is sudden, but...I have never connected with someone so deeply as I have you."

"I...I don't know what to say," she replied. She would rather cut off her own limb than to cause him pain and to say what she was about to tell him. She knew that once she said it, their friendship would be destroyed forever, and she mourned this fact. He had been such a dear friend to her.

"If you need time to think, I can wait. But I am leaving right away. A carriage is on its way as we speak."

Seeing her hesitation, he attempted to soothe her. He tucked one of her loose curls behind her ear, unaware that it had sent a ripple of pain through the man watching through the window.

"Dear, sweet Alinah, I know that you must feel something for me, too. Do not be afraid of what you feel."

She wanted to burst into tears, but she remained as calm as she could. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the worst. Would he become angry? Would he shout at her?

"No, what I feel for you, and have felt for you all along, has been nothing more than affection. You are like a brother to me and I care for you as such, but nothing more. I am sorry that my behavior has proven otherwise. It was improper of me."

He could not prevent the frown on his face, and he slowly stood up to acknowledge his reality. Erik could not see his expression, as Jonathan's back was toward the window, but he could only imagine that she had agreed to his proposal. He glared at the happy couple and fumed. He was livid.

To have fallen for it once had been naivity on his part. But twice...he huffed at his stupidity. These were exactly the sort of feelings that he never wished to experience again and he had tried so hard to avoid. But something about Alinah had crept into his heart, unbeknownst to him, driving him to the point of insanity at the thought that he could not have her as his own.

What it was about her, he did not know. Perhaps her kindness toward him had stirred something within him. He knew that she had pitied him, as that could have been the only possible and logical explanation for her behavior, but he found himself yearning for more. Christine had always pitied him, yes; but she had never embraced him willingly. It was only in the face of her lover's death that she had approached him. How heart-wrenching it was for him to remember the desperate kiss that she had given him as a final attempt to spare the Vicomte's life.

Yet, Alinah had not only saved him from death on the rooftop, but she had tended to his wounds after he had cut his hand, she had complimented him multiple times on his music, she had eagerly anticipated their lessons, she had baked special treats for him and bought him gifts, and she had embraced him out of her own free will. She had the power to annoy him with her habits, to anger him with her prying, to confuse him with her concern, and to taunt him with her close proximity. On many occasions, he was close enough to her that he would be able kiss her, and this fact had even mocked him in his dreams.

While he was still haunted by memories of his days at the Opera House, and of Christine, his mind had been weighed down with thoughts of Alinah as-of-late. Her soft features, her blue eyes staring at him with admiration, her small frame against him...it was pure agony.

He paced back and forth angrily as he remembered it. Christine had been innocent and ignorant in her dealings with him, for he had been under the guise of her "Angel of Music". She did not know better; she didn't know what he was capable of or what his motives were.

But Alinah knew who he was, she knew his temper. She must have known what her "kind acts" had done to him; confused him, at first, only to dwell on it further until it made him long for more. She was doing this to him intentionally, for her own entertainment. She was nothing short of a Temptress, and he now realized just how deep he had fallen into her trap.

"Will you at least accompany me to the carriage? I do not wish to say goodbye, just yet," Jonathan asked.

She nodded, and the two walked toward the front of the estate together, and out of Erik's view.

No doubt to celebrate their joy, he thought bitterly to himself. His anger blazed like a raging fire, and he paced the length of his room, plotting against Jonathan. He could leave his very room that moment, and strangle Jonathan with his bare hands. But how would Alinah react? No, he didn't care. The least he could do was dismiss the man from his position. Either way, he would not allow the servant to enter his home again, let alone breathe the same air as him.

Once they had reached the carriage, Alinah glanced down at her feet in shame. How awful he must think her to be now, and she felt horrible that she had tarnished his good opinion of her.

"Who is he?" Jonathan asked.

"Who?" she asked, caught by surprise. Was he referring to the Master? Though he was leaving, she refused to divulge any information about the identity of her employer.

"The man who has captured your heart."

Alinah was stunned by his reply. "W-what?"

He couldn't help but to chuckle slightly at her reaction. "I have seen the glow to your complexion, and the happiness in your eyes, on certain days. I thought it had been for me, or perhaps I had imagined it to be, but it is there, nonetheless."

She could not say anything in return. What must he think of her?

He gave a weak smile as he opened the door to the carriage. "You should tell him," he said before he stepped inside.

The two said their silent farewells, and she could not bare to watch him disappear into the horizon. She quickly went inside before she would observe the carriage driving towards the iron gate, lest she should lose control of her emotions. The tears in her eyes disappeared as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Though she was sad to see him go, she was relieved that the worst was over.

Then, her thoughts drifted to the man walking down the staircase, dressed in black attire, fists bare and tightened into balls at his sides, a white mask that hid one side of his face with the good side snarling with anger, eyes burning into her very soul. She feared the reason for his violent temper, and she wondered if he had seen her in the garden with Jonathan.

He stormed over to the front door, where she stood.

"Move aside!" he ordered through clenched teeth.

She stood in place, despite the intense glare that he shot at her. She had to admit, she had never seen him so upset before, and she wondered what he was planning on doing about it.

"Erik," her voice was gentle, "What is wrong? Where are you going?"

"I said, move aside! Do you always insist upon disobeying me?" he shouted. How badly he wanted to smash something or to rip a hole in the wall. He would settle upon causing Jonathan physical harm for the pain that he now felt within himself.

Although she would never admit it, she was frightened. Still, she refused to let her weakness show and she stood firmly in place.

"Tell me what is wrong," she said softly.

"I will tell you nothing! _You_ do not give _me_ orders around here!"

"Fine, then there is something that I must tell _you_. Will you come into the foyer with me?"

Her calm gaze only fueled his flames.

"I already know of your little engagement! Spare me the details!"

"Engagement?" she asked, confused. She stifled a gasp when she realized that he had seen and misunderstood. "Erik, I am not engaged."

"Don't lie to me, you little viper!" he shouted at her. "I saw it with my own eyes!"

She took a few steps closer to him, despite her better judgement. "Erik, I refused him. I do not love him."

"Is this some sort of game to you?!"

A look of pain crossed her features. "What? What do you mean?"

He turned away from her and faced the staircase, his back to her. She was trying his patience.

"Why did you ever come here?" he seemed to be asking himself, more than her, and she listened on, silently. "You never cease to irritate me; you insist on taunting me! You know who I am, and yet you refuse to leave! Anyone else would have been afraid, but _you_...you are as headstrong as you are agitating!"

She bit her lip, feeling the sting of his words. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, and she could feel her heart shatter into tiny pieces in her chest.

"Speak no more. I understand you, completely," she said. With her head held high to maintain what dignity she had left, she walked around him and started for the stairs. She would return to her room to gather her belongings.

But as she took the first step, he caught her wrist with his fingers.

"I am not finished with you!" he hissed to her.

His hold on her was not painful, but it was strong. She slowly turned around to face him, but she could not meet his eyes, for fear that her emotion would betray her.

"You think that you are so brave and fearless, but you are toying with your life! I have been lenient upon you, Mademoiselle, and yet you insist on infuriating me!"

"I do not wish to upset you," she mumbled sadly.

"Then why are you not afraid of me? Why are you so stubborn, you irrational woman! Do you not have any sense in you? I am the Phantom of the Opera; I have tortured, I have killed, yes; I said it, I have threatened, intimidated, and frightened those who cross my path, I have held hostage the woman I loved and denied her freedom, wishing for her to share in my miserable existence!

I forced her to choose between an eternity with the monster that I am, or to end the Vicomte's life by my hands and she chose to save his life! Had I not released him, she would have been my prisoner unwillingly, fearing my touch and loathing the very thought of me! I am trapped inside of this Hell, and I will take with me anyone who gets in my way! Make no mistake that you are no different!"

"What you have done in the past is of no consequence to me, now. I know who you are, I know that you are short-tempered, but I know that you have not, and will never, hurt me. There is good in you, you must see it," she replied calmly.

He watched her eyes travel to his own.

"Foolish girl!" he spat. "I thought that you had more intelligence than this!"

Alinah was at an end of her tolerance, and she refused to take his insults with a calm indifference. Her own temper rose within her.

"I have had enough of your hurtful remarks! Think what you will, but I am not afraid of you!" she yelled. "But your rude behavior is unnecessary!"

Erik felt her attempt to pry her wrist of of his grip, but she did not cower from him. He could see no tears. There was no fear in her eyes, only a look of pain.

"Why won't you leave?!" his voice lower, but still fierce.

If she was not frightened by his identity as the Phantom of the Opera, if she was not afraid of what he had done, if she did not cower from his temper, then surely there was one thing that he was certain would turn her away.

He felt the agony and despair consume him. It was the only thing left to do, and he would prove her wrong. He would give her a reason to fear him and to leave him, for good.

His fingers trembled, and not from anger alone, as he ripped off his mask before her very eyes.


	40. Chapter 40

**Whew...is it getting hot in here, or what? ;)**

**I know that some of you are wondering what happened to Vivienne's body, who else knows, why doesn't the Doctor question things, etc...don't worry, it will all be answered soon. I will try to squeeze out as much from this story as I can, but I don't think there are very many chapters left. But, I do have an idea for a new one.**

Ch. 40

This was the moment that Alinah had been prepared for, but had not been expecting. She had once caught a glimpse of the very edges of his red skin when he had fallen asleep and his mask had moved out of place, but she had not been anticipating _this_.

Red, mangled flesh that looked irritated. No doubt, the mask didn't help it to breathe. Raw and swollen, even into his hairline. His eye drooped, his nose somewhat distorted. Even the top of his lip had not remained unaffected.

The inclination to grimace had passed after the first few seconds of inspecting his face, and she maintained a blank expression. She knew that it was crucial for her not to show any emotion, especially right away, in fear that she would either upset or hurt him. Her eyes roved over the deformity, and while she agreed that it had terribly distorted his face, she focused on the good side and who he was as a person.

He was better than this. He had reduced himself to an ugly monster, incapable of good and impossible to be loved. But she knew better. To keep from wincing at the sight of the marred skin, she reminded herself of his endearing qualities; his brilliant mind, his musical genius, his astounding voice, his romanticism and affection (when he had shown it) and his caring attitude. She could see the despair and longing in him to gain the approval of a fellow human being, and though at times he was shy because of this, afraid of what she might think of him, it had only made her want to give him what no one else had before: a friend, love, affection.

While part of her instinctively felt sympathy and compassion for him because of what he had suffered, her affections for him had not been the result of pity. No, she did not love him simply because he was considered to be unloveable and she felt sorry for him. She could see what an amazing and gentle man he was, when he chose to be. He was a _good_ man. Her sympathy had simply resulted from understanding what it was like to feel like a failure and to be rejected by those around her, granted, she had not suffered injustices to the extent of his. But she had found her own thoughts and feelings within him, and she shared something with him that she couldn't quite describe.

Now, she could somewhat understand Christine's fear and the screams of the crowd when they saw his face. It would easily frighten those weak at heart. But as she saw the anger disappear from his features, replaced with sadness, she could not comprehend why anyone would put him through the humiliation of exposing him for everyone to see. It was cruel.

"Now, what have you to say?" he breathed. It was barely above a whisper.

He couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes. He didn't want to see the disgust and terror that lie within them; it would crush him. He even regretted ever taking his mask off, in the first place, for now he knew that she would be lost to him and never to return.

A warm and painful feeling flooded into her chest as she watched a tear trail down his face. She felt as if the air had been crushed out of her; the pain was so strong that it brought tears to her eyes. The expression of misery that he wore was almost too much to bear. She could feel his agony.

She wiped away the tear on his good cheek before she placed her hands on both sides of his face. She encouraged him to meet her gaze, and when he did, she could see the terror behind them. He was afraid of what she would say.

"I am still here," she replied softly, her eyes warm and calm.

She carefully brushed the stray hair away from his irritated skin with her fingertips, gentle enough so that she wouldn't hurt him. He stared into her eyes in disbelief. Was she really standing there, touching his face? Was he dreaming, and he would wake up to reality?

"Why do you torture me like this?" he whispered in despair.

He closed his eyes, hoping that she would not disappear, but expecting it. He could feel her touch still and a shiver ran down his spine, creating gooseflesh on his arms. She traced his good eyebrow with her thumb, cupping his cheek in her hand. His breath grew heavy and he opened his eyes once more, a look of intense passion now blazing within them.

"You do not know what you are doing to me..." his voice, thick with emotion and desire.

It took everything within him not to press her lips to his, and he was holding on by a thread. His eyes wandered to them, rosey and slightly-parted. She was taunting him, and he couldn't restrain himself much longer.

"If you do not stop...then I won't...be able to...control myself."

Alinah's breath caught in her throat and she shuddered, her breaths becoming shallow and labored. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him, and she nearly stopped breathing when he traced her lips with his thumb, his hand resting on her jaw. Never before had she been treated with such gentleness, yet such passion, by a man. She trembled slightly by his touch, anxious to close the space between them.

"Alinah!" a man's voice called out from the front door.

Erik whipped around, infuriated by the disruption and ready to break Mr. Harris' eardrums, to see Jonathan standing in the open doorway. Neither one of them had heard the door open, and they were startled by his voice.

Alinah took a few steps in front of Erik, feeling the instinct to protect him from Jonathan's reaction. She felt terrified at the thought of what would happen, as Erik's face was still exposed and his mask lay on the floor. It was too late to turn back, now.

"Are you hurt?" Jonathan closed the distance between her and then looked up at Erik in anger. "You, stay away from her!"

Alinah was placed behind him, much to her displeasure, and the two men were feet away from each other, each one glaring and sizing the other up. Alinah placed a hand on Jonathan's shoulder to get his attention and she gently urged him farther away from Erik, who's jaw was tightened and eyes set ablaze with a different type of passion; a passion for vengeance.

"Jonathan, it is alright," she said.

"No, it is not alright! Do you know who this is?!" he yelled. Then, he focused on the Phantom once more. "My uncle was there that fateful night! He barely escaped with his life!"

Alinah could feel the thick tension in the air, and she knew that if she didn't calm one of them down, then they were sure to become physical with one another. She knew that with Jonathan's injured shoulder and Erik's towering height (not to mention, who he was), that the former servant had slim chances of getting away unscathed. In one last final attempt to get through to him, she stepped between the two and turned to her Master.

"Erik, please..." she begged. He ignored her and inched dangerously closer.

"Erik?" Jonathan repeated the name, confused. "He is deceiving you, Alinah! He will take you down with him, just as he did Christine!"

Erik would have already caused the boy harm, if it hadn't been for the woman standing in the way.

She decided that he would not see reason in his dangerous state of mind, so she turned her back on him and faced Jonathan. She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice, but Erik could still hear what she was saying.

"It is _him_," she said, hoping that Jonathan would understand her meaning. "Remember what you told me, before you left? I know what I am doing."

Erik was confused by her choice of words, as she seemed hesitant to say them. What did she mean, "it is him"? Was she planning something against him? Were the two scheming together?

Jonathan stared at her, shocked at her confession. "_Him_?" he pointed to the angry man behind her, who had replaced his mask without the two noticing.

She nodded her head slowly. "Please, go."

"I can't believe this!" Jonathan muttered. He felt betrayed.

He slowly backed up to the door. He still was in disbelief, but he could see that she would not back down. The item that he had left behind and come back to retrieve no longer mattered to him. He left without another word.

Alinah quickly locked the door, hoping that he wouldn't return. She turned to Erik, who's unsettling eyes now threatened her.

"You planned this, didn't you?" he seethed.

"What?" she asked, taken aback by his newfound anger. She stepped closer to him, but he backed away towards the staircase.

"You wanted him to see me! You tricked me!" he yelled, feeling the pain in his throat as the tears threatened to escape.

"No! Erik, I-"

"Liar!"

She softly touched his chest, hoping to calm him down, but he pulled away from her without hesitation.

"You little snake! I should have known...I should have known!" he spoke to himself, the disappointment imminent in his voice.

She called out to him as he climbed the stairs, three at a time, but he refused to listen and he disappeared into his room. She could not catch up to him so quickly, and by the time that she had reached his door, it was locked and he refused to answer.

* * *

**I know that I am going to get a lot of angry messages for this...personally, if I was Alinah, I would have grabbed him and forced him to kiss me, like it or not, by now! Can you imagine Mr. Harris' reaction all of those times that he had barged in, if he would have caught them kissing? Haha.**


	41. Chapter 41

**I wrote this chapter yesterday but rewrote it today. I'm still not satisfied, but hopefully you'll enjoy it.**

**Filhound: I laughed so hard from your review! Thanks!**

**Gab & Sanaara: Thank you for your kind words. :)**

**1AmberSkye1: Your review made me smile.**

**Orcatje: I'm glad you like it!**

**FantomPhan33: Thank you for being my most faithful reviewer!**

**michellecariveau: Thank you for sticking with me through this story!**

**AT LAST! The awaited chapter! (and only a few more left to this story)**

Ch. 41

One hour later, Mr. Harris was on his way upstairs, when he noticed Alinah sagging against Monsieur Deberaux's door with a hopeless expression on her face. She turned to him and gave a weak smile before she rested her forehead against the door.

"Ms. Claude, what is it that you are doing?" he questioned curiously. With his silver hair combed back and his chest held high, he stared at her with his thick, grey eyebrows furrowed. She looked to be very tired, and despair filled her eyes. He could only guess that the two had a quarrel, but he was confused as to why she was being so stubborn as to aggravate the Master outside of his door.

"He won't open the door..." she breathed, sounding exhausted. She sighed very loudly. "I need to speak with him."

He wondered how long she had been there. One hour? Two? This behavior was so unlike her, so he knew that whatever her reason was, it must have been important. Knowing Monsieur Deberaux, however; if he was upset even slightly, then there was no chance that he would relent to her.

"About what? Can it wait?"

"No," she shook her head sadly. She was done letting Erik storm off from her, especially since he had accused her falsely of things that she didn't do. She would not have him believing that she had betrayed him. It was about time that he needed to face her, and to hear what she had to say.

"Come with me," he ordered, waving his hand for her to come to him. "There is something that I must speak to you about."

Alinah straightened up and followed him into her room, having decided that it was useless for her to continue to wait at Erik's door. She felt uneasy, unaware of what Mr. Harris could possibly have to say to her. Would it be about Jonathan? Had she done something wrong? Would she be released from her position for her disobedience?

As he closed the door, he sighed and folded his hands in front of him, which only increased the dread that filled her. He thought of how he should begin the conversation, as it was not an easy topic to discuss.

"What is it that is so important that you must harrass Monsieur Deberaux for such a period of time?" he asked. "You know that he wants privacy, and as a servant, it is wrong of you to bother him."

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed. She had never meant to disrespect her employer, or to disappoint Mr. Harris. In her day-to-day tasks, she had willingly obeyed, but she felt that the end of her patience had been reached. Erik needed to know the truth.

"It is personal."

"Oh?" his eyebrow raised. "Why would it be personal?"

She didn't respond.

"Do you love him?"

"Excuse me?" her head snapped up, shocked. She did not know how he could have guessed, for even she herself had not realized it until recently.

"Do you love the Master?" he repeated. He appeared so calm in comparison to her, that one could mistake that he had merely asked about what was for dinner, instead of such a prying question about her feelings.

"I do not see how that is any of your business!" she snapped, crossing her arms across her chest in defense. She would take his reprimandings in stride, she would silently listen to his chidings about what she was doing wrong or should do diffferently, but she would not be interrogated into confessing something that she did not want him to know, especially when it came to her affections for Erik.

He could see her reluctance.

"Ms. Claude, if you love him, then I don't need to know why, how, or when. I simply want to know that what I am about to do is of some importance, lest I should be risking everything for something trivial," he explained. After all, had she any less of a reason for her disobedience, then he certainly wouldn't wish to risk his position and salary for her. He patiently waited as she eyed him with suspicion.

"What are you about to do?" she asked, hesitating.

"Well, that depends on whether or not you love him."

The man was persistent, and she sighed in defeat. He would probably have found out, eventually, if he had not already guessed. It was time that Erik knew, as well, so why hide it any longer? Besides, she knew that she could trust Mr. Harris, as she remembered the time when he had given her the newspaper article, and she felt indebted to him.

"Yes, I do," she admitted sheepishly. She could not help but to smile as she said it out loud, even though the one whom she wanted to tell it to was refusing to talk to her. Telling it to Mr. Harris, however; did relieve a bit of the tension that she felt in her shoulders. She had been bottling up her feelings for too long.

"Good," he concluded simply, and he opened the door. "Then, follow me."

She looked quizically at him as he stood in the hallway and gestured for her to join him. She was completely clueless as to his intentions, but she followed him anyway.

Once they had approached Monsieur Deberaux's door, Mr. Harris gestured for her to knock. She knocked three times, and still Erik did not answer.

"Erik, please...open the door..." she begged. She knocked a few more times, but to no avail.

Mr. Harris gave a few raps on the door himself, that were much louder and more impatient than hers were.

"Monsieur, I beg you; open the door," he said.

Silence.

"If you do not open this door, then Ms. Claude may need to find a new situation..." Mr. Harris announced, hoping to provoke his Master enough to answer.

Alinah looked fearfully at the Butler and hoped that he was merely threatening the Master for the desired effect, and that he was not serious about what he had said. She could not imagine parting with Erik before she told him everything.

Still, nothing.

"Of all of the times to lock yourself in your room and to be anti-social, this is not one of them!"

He pounded harder, the sound echoing down the hall. The determination on his aged features made him appear to be even more desperate than she was.

"If you do not open this door, then _I_ will find a new position somewhere else, and then you shall truly be alone and this house will be empty! All the more reason to sulk in your room!" he shouted at his employer. This may have been the only opportunity for love for Monsieur Deberaux, and he refused to let him pass it by unintentionally.

Both Alinah and Erik were shocked at the Butler's raised voice and his bold words. Never before had she seen a look so intensely frustrated on his face, almost as if he were in pain, and he gestured for her to move.

"Stand back," he ordered her gently. Then, raising his voice again, he called out to his Master, "I am going to break this door down, Erik, even if it is the death of me! Do you want my death on your hands, as well?"

After a few moments of silence, Mr. Harris shouted, "Alright, so be it!"

Just as the older man was preparing to kick the door down, it flew wide open and Erik stood in its place. He looked a mixture of depressed and agitated, but not angry like he was before.

"Thank you for sparing me that ordeal," Mr. Harris mumbled with relief.

"What do you want?" Erik hissed.

"Be a gentleman and let her in," Mr. Harris suggested kindly.

Erik glared at him, hoping to intimidate him and to scare him away, but Mr. Harris refused to budge. The only thing left to do would be to hear whatever it was that Alinah had to say, and be done with her. He was growing tired of their constant noise on the other side of the door while he was trying to compose. Clearly, ignoring them had not improved the distraction much, so he felt that he had no other choice but to comply.

Mr. Harris patted Alinah's shoulder with pride as she entered Erik's room. Before the door was closed on the Butler, he added to his irritated Master,

"You will thank me later."

Erik shut the door in Mr. Harris' face and locked it so that there would be no more interruptions, should Alinah have anything useful to say. Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair and turned to her, as she stood near his desk and fingered the small quill that lay on it. She turned her attention to him, her eyes glossy.

"Erik, I am so sorry for any pain that I might have caused you. Despite what you may think, I do not love Jonathan, and I did not intend for him to see you."

His cold expression remained the same, as if he was completely unaffected by her words, and she frowned. Deep down inside, he felt the small bite of remorse for his behavior. He had been consumed by his emotions, without consideration to how she would feel while he insulted and accused her. Even though he wouldn't admit it, he knew that she was not so cruel as to betray him in such a way. Still, he wished to avoid the subject altogether, as it caused him pain to think of it.

"I had no idea that he would return. If I would have known-"

He put a hand up to silence her. If she had come to him to beg for his forgiveness, then he would refuse to listen. Should Jonathan notify the authorities about the Opera Ghost's whereabouts, then Erik would gladly accept his fate. He deserved whatever it was that would come for him, and he was done with running away.

"What is so important that you must tell me _this instant_?" he questioned, annoyed. "Have you decided to find a new situation, after all?"

She looked up at him, the hurt written across her features.

"Do you _want_ me to leave?" she asked in return. She could feel the pain swelling in her chest at the thought of leaving him permanently.

He looked away from her, trying to maintain his composure. Simply the thought of it made him miserable.

"No," he muttered to himself. She almost didn't hear him.

"Then, I won't," she replied. "For as long as you want me to stay, I will."

Erik's attention drifted back to her soft gaze, and he took a few deliberate steps closer to her. How dangerous her words were, tempting him with what he couldn't have. If only she knew how much she had consumed his thoughts, how she had haunted his dreams. Any glimpse of hope that she gave him was deadly, and any shred of encouragement was lethal. He knew better than to respond to it, but he found that he could not stop himself.

She watched him draw nearer, the passion in his eyes returned and enhanced by the nearby candlelight. She bit her lower lip and tried to remain calm, but her heart fluttered in her chest with each step that he took. If only he knew the power that he had over her.

When he lowered himself, inches from her face, her breath caught in her throat. She wondered if he would kiss her, and she anticipated it with excitement. But, his lips brushed softly past her cheek, instead.

"Do not say such things," he whispered into her ear.

His breath played upon her neck, teasing her skin. She shivered and closed her eyes, hoping that he would end her suffering with a kiss. So many times she had wondered, so many times she had yearned for it. She could not be denied, this time, or she would certainly go mad. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and she could have sworn that he could hear her heart pounding, as well.

Erik pulled away, slightly confused by her reaction. He had expected her to be frightened by his intimate gesture, but instead, she seemed to almost wish for it. The thought that perhaps she was enjoying it tortured his mind.

"B-but it's true..." she stuttered nervously.

She thought that she would be calm and collected and she had been prepared as to what she would say to him and how she would say it. She had rehearsed her little speech over and over again in her mind, but she had not been expecting this. His sudden change in temper had caught her off-guard, and she found that her thoughts were racing together as a blur, unable to focus on a single thing, except for the few inches that kept them apart.

He pulled away slightly, just enough for her to see the increasing longing in his eyes. The flickering flame danced across his face.

Her hand reached up to touch him and he didn't stop her. Her fingers slowly slid down his cheek and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her fingertips caressing his skin. She traced the outline of his jaw, until she was met with the cold edge of the white mask.

"May I?" she asked softly.

His eyes fluttered open in fear, and she noticed how his pupils had dilated. She wondered if perhaps she had made a mistake, and if he would pull away from her, or worse; become angry.

"I won't, if you do not want me to," she added, to reassure him.

He closed his eyes again and shook his head.

"No, you may."

Alinah was slightly shocked that he had agreed, and she searched his face for any sign of anger or resentment. She did not wish to do anything that would warrant his temper, but his soft expression had remained the same, if only a bit of fear had woven its way into his features. She had seen his face already, but the thought still gave him anxiety. The fact that she had asked for permission instead of taking the liberty to rip it off herself, had somewhat eased his mind, albeit only a little.

He inhaled sharply and held his breath after she had peeled away the mask. He could feel the cool air on his skin, so relieving, and he wondered what she was thinking. Did he dare open his eyes to find out?

He felt her fingers trace just underneath where the mask had been, along his jaw, and he breathed deeply. He opened his eyes slowly to see her looking up at him, with a tenderness that he had never seen in their blueness before. He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, and he licked his lips. Perhaps she wouldn't be frightened away, after all. What had initially been an attempt to scare her had now turned into a dangerous situation, as he felt his willpower slowly slipping away with each stroke of her finger.

"If you don't cease in taunting me..." he breathed, "Then you will regret it...what I will do..."

Alinah smiled mischievously as they slowly inched closer to one another. "Tell me...what will you do?" she whispered in return.

He could feel their breaths intermingle and any last strength inside of him disappeared. He begged her, he pleaded with her, in his mind to stop, but she only drew closer and encouraged him.

He pressed his lips to hers, and waited for her to pull away, but he was pleasantly surprised when she responded by intertwining her fingers in his hair. When he felt her hand on the back of his neck, he lost all self-control. The kiss was rough, passionate, as he was desperate to explore her mouth with his, crushing her to his body and delighting in the feeling of her small frame pressed against him. He cupped her face with both hands and deepened the kiss. Then it slowed, soft and gentle, as he felt the pounding of his heart each time that his lips brushed up against hers.

Breathless, he pulled away to search her face for any sign of fear or repulsion, but he found none. Not even remorse; only a smile, as she opened her eyes to look at him. He noticed the way that her lips had swelled and the rosey glow to her cheeks, and he couldn't believe that he had been the cause of it.

Erik could not contain his emotions any longer, and Alinah became slightly alarmed when she saw the tears trailing down his face. He fell to his knees and placed his hands on her legs in hopes that he would prevent her from leaving, staining her dress with his tears.

"Please don't leave me...please..." he wept. "I could not bear it!"

Silent tears rolled down her own cheeks, and she kneeled before him. She gently tilted his chin so that she could look into his eyes.

"I will never leave you."

She brushed his cheek with her fingertips, gently wiping away his tears, but the affectionate look on her face only made him break down even more.

"I do not deserve your compassion..."

"It is not compassion..." she replied. She brought her lips to his softly, feeling her breath escape her once more. When she pulled away, his eyes searched her blue ones, trying to read their expression.

"Erik, I love you."

He looked at her, shocked, and wondered if he had heard her correctly. Not even he could imagine ever hearing those words from her, in fact, they were so unexpected that he thought that he might have been delusional.

"This must be a dream," he concluded sadly. It was the only logical explanation.

"If this is a dream, then I never want to wake up," she replied with a grin.

"No, for not even in my dreams could I have imagined hearing you say such sweet words. Alinah..." he kissed her, "Say it again..."

She smiled, noticing the hope that had formed in his eyes and how his face had brightened.

"I love you."

He was elated, he was speechless, he could feel the warmth flowing through his chest. She had breathed a new breath of life into him, had given him more than he could ever ask for. He kissed her lips again, savoring the sensation of their velvet and smoothness.

"And I love you, Alinah."


	42. Chapter 42

**I'm glad you all liked the fluff, and here's more. But, don't get too carried away...there are a few chapters left and loose ends to tie. ;)**

Ch. 42

Long moments passed by and they held each other, whispering words of tender affection. In the back of Erik's mind, he still couldn't believe what was happening, but the more that she touched him, the more that she kissed him, it all became real. He could never have imagined her smooth lips, her soft and gentle caress. And to think that she loved him _willingly_...he could not fathom it.

The only sort of affection that he had been shown his entire life had been the kiss that Christine had given him. It was not out of love. It had been pity and fear that had moved her to kiss him. For years, his mind had been haunted by her lips, wishing to feel them again, but destroyed by the reminder that she could never return his love.

For the entire time that he had taught Christine to sing, watched over her, and basked in her success, he had always felt unworthy of her affections. He had reasoned that he did not deserve her, and to keep at a safe distance while he, alone, loved her. She had been a heavenly personification that was far out of reach. He nearly worshipped her every move, knowing that he would never have her.

She had been his first love, and he hadn't known how to treat the fragile situation. Fear of scaring her away and jealousy because of another man had inspired him to behave like a madman. He had been desperate, feeling that he could not love another woman ever again, or to be loved in return. But in the end, it had not surprised him that his actions had done the complete opposite of what he had intended them to do, and she had chosen the Vicomte instead.

But Alinah was much different. She was stubborn and persistant, refusing to back down. She was not young and naive. She was not ignorant to the cruelty of the world. She did not have any musical talent, or even a voice of an angel. She had seen him for who he was, not under a guise or false pretense. She knew of his temper, his faults and weaknesses, his suffering, his past, and even his face. And yet, she had not abandoned him, she had not shrieked in fear. Still, she wanted to kiss him. She looked upon his face, bare and disfigured as it was, but that did not stop her from telling him the three words that he had wanted to hear all of his life.

When the clock struck seven, Alinah gasped and stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress and wiping the hair out of her face.

"It is seven o'clock. I must prepare dinner!"

Erik frowned and rose to his feet.

"Dinner can wait," he said. He pulled her close to him and kissed her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

"But I am hungry, and it is late," she countered.

As much as she hadn't wanted to part with him, she could feel the deep ache in her stomach that begged for food. Still, he continued to trail his lips from below her ear, down to her collarbone, and she let out a shaky breath.

"My hunger...is for you..." he breathed deeply.

His words made her breath catch in her throat. How she wanted to tilt her head back and to enjoy the sensation of his lips on her skin, but the logic inside of her nagged at her conscience.

"Erik, you must stop," she said with as much determination as she could, yet when his lips touched her skin, her voice cracked. "What...what would Mr. Harris think?"

"I don't care...about...what he thinks!" he replied in between kisses.

Firmly but gently, Alinah placed her hands on his chest and urged him to stop. It took everything in her power to do it, as she much rather would have given into him and relished in the moment.

"But it is improper. I am still your servant, and I am not showing you affection for personal gain or to advance my career. I want to behave in a way that reflects that."

Erik's eyes grew cold and his face hardened as he pulled away from her. The spot on her neck where he had kissed now felt lonely, and she almost wished that she hadn't said it.

"You do not want to share the bed of a monster," he turned away from her in order to control his temper. "I understand," he said dryly. Fresh tears blurred his eyes.

Alinah's anger began to boil. "How can you even say such a thing?!"

She grabbed his hand, entertwining her fingers in his own. She urged him to face her and when he did, her tone was softer,

"You are not a monster! I will spend however long it takes to prove that to you, and I never want you to doubt my love for you. But, regardless of how I feel, I will not become your Mistress."

Erik's fears melted away when he looked into her eyes and saw the emotion that he still felt was impossible to exist in her. Nevertheless, he could still feel the pain in his heart, knowing that she would never be his, entirely.

She could sense his disappointment, and she hoped that he hadn't misunderstood her.

"What I mean is that I love you," she touched his face, even placing a gentle hand on his marred cheek, "And I do not want bits and pieces of happiness. I want all of you. But, you are my Employer, and until circumstances change, we must be responsible in our actions and dealings with one another."

He noted the tone of her voice and the smile on her face at her insinuation. Could he dare to hope? Could he believe that there was a chance that she would agree to marry him, if he should ask?

Never in a million years did he imagine that he would ever receive such a beautiful gift in the form of Alinah's love. Still, something inside of him wanted more. Everything that he had ever hoped for, everything that he had yearned for, was now at his fingertips. If her feelings remained even after that night of confessing her love to him, if she did not regret touching his face and kissing him, then she would have saved him from an eternity of solitude, from the darkness of Hell itself.

Though disappointed that she must part with him, he nodded his head in agreement. She could see the uncertainty and fear etched onto his face, and she placed a soft kiss on his lips to reassure him. He tried, with great difficulty, not to allow his emotions and desires to consume him, but her lips were intoxicating. She pulled away before anything could result from it.

"Will you join me downstairs for dinner, when it is ready?" she asked. She noticed how uncomfortable he grew as he hesitated to respond. She wondered how long it had been since he had had a meal with someone else. Perhaps he had never, in his life. "If not, then perhaps another time..." she sighed.

"No, I will."

A large grin formed on her lips as she placed a peck on his cheek and nearly sprinted out of the room with excitement. She almost collided with Mr. Harris in the hall and she muttered an apology before racing down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was going to prepare an extraordinary meal, and she delighted in the thought that she would finally be able to sit down and eat with Erik. Granted, she knew that it was unusual for a servant to dine with her Master, but she didn't care. All that she could think about was the fact that he would finally be out of his room, and he would have a shred of normalcy in his household.

Judging by the change in behavior in Alinah, Mr. Harris assumed that things had gone well. As if to confirm this, he heard the sound of music eminating from his Master's room. It had been a long time since he had heard the Master play, and for once, the melody was cheerful. He smiled proudly to himself when he noticed the strongest emotion in the notes:

Hope.


	43. Chapter 43

**Alright, so I know that a lot of you want a sequel, but...I don't know if I could brainstorm one. I think I could, maybe after my next fanfic (since I already have the plot in mind), but no promises. Since you don't want it to end just yet, I was day-dreaming yesterday and thought of some new things to add so that I can milk the chapters out! So, there is more to come!**

**Thank you for the reviews, and I'm sorry for those who should be studying/doing something else but are distracted...what a huge compliment!**

Ch. 43

Alinah stood back and watched the steam rise from the food with anticipation. The table before her was laid out with a beef roast that she had marinated in red wine and roasted potatoes, carrots, and onions. She saved her dessert for last, waiting in the kitchen; a chocolate cake with dark chocolate ganache and white chocolate raspberry mousse filling. She lit a few more candles on the table and hung her apron up in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Mr. Harris knocked on his Master's door and waited patiently for a reply. He had not wished to disturb Monsieur Deberaux's music, but Ms. Claude had notified him that dinner was served. While he had felt somewhat disappointed that he hadn't been invited to join them, as he had never seen the Master dine outside of his room before, he knew that it was best to leave the two to their own company. He would take his meal in his own quarters.

The music came to a stop, and the door was answered. Erik's face, which was usually hardened with stress and eyes glaring, was now relaxed and more at-ease. Mr. Harris also noticed that he hadn't taken to drink, though it was late at night, which thrilled him exceedingly.

"I take it everything went well?" Mr. Harris asked with a smirk on his face.

Erik did not respond.

"No need to thank me. Just come to me if you ever need a firm nudge in the right direction, or a broken door, and I will be happy to be of assistance," Mr. Harris chuckled to himself. Erik didn't see the humor in it, at all.

"Don't let that large head of yours inflate too much," Erik muttered. Still, he had to admit that he had been grateful for what his Butler had done.

He could see the small smile playing on his Master's lips, which he tried to hide. This brought him great satisfaction.

"Well, I shall be on my way. Dinner is served in the dining room," he announced before he left.

At the thought of dining with Alinah, Erik grew nervous. What would he say? Would it be awkward, or would things go smoothly?

Alinah waited patiently for him to enter the dining room, and once she had seen his attire, she grew somewhat ashamed of her own plain dress. He had changed into a crimson silk vest, a black cravat, black pants and a black coat. His dark hair was sleeked back perfectly, enhancing the color in his eyes. She noticed the mask that he had replaced. Though vanity-wise he did look better with it on, she hoped that eventually he would be comfortable to hardly ever wear it around her, as she much preferred who he really was.

She blushed when he noticed how she had been staring at him.

"Allow me," he said, pulling out her chair for her.

She smiled at the gesture, but she still said,

"Thank you. But you must remember that I am still only a servant."

"Well then, it is a good thing that no one is here to witness our behavior," he smirked as he sat down.

Alinah could not help but to snicker as she imagined the look on people's faces if they were to know that she was now calmly dining with the Phantom of the Opera, even jesting with him in good humor.

The food was passed around and she smiled at his shyness. In an effort to ease his nervousness, she attempted to make conversation.

"Your playing was beautiful tonight. But, it always is," she smiled, taking a bite of the roast. She sighed with relief when she tasted how perfectly-cooked it had been. Tender, but a bit of sweetness to it.

Erik focused on eating, but she could see the tiny grin that formed on his lips from her compliment, and it urged her further.

"What made you ever decide to learn music?"

Before he responded, Erik finished his last bite of food, as he decided that it was too delectable not to savor.

"When I first came to live beneath the Opera, I was but a mere boy. When I caught a glimpse of my first opera, it was so passionate...so beautiful. I admired how the singers could become completely different people and live a life not there own. The music was enchanting, it was a comfort to me in a time of need," he replied.

She watched him as his brows furrowed in pain, probably remembering a not-so-fond memory.

"And then you taught yourself?" she asked curiously, hoping to take his mind off of what was troubling him.

"Yes, I devoted all of my time and energy to music thereafter."

She could see how uncomfortable he had become.

"I am sorry. It is not right for me to pry," she said softly.

"No, it is alright. It is painful, yes; but you deserve to hear it. What would you like to know about me? You may ask anything...except about...about Christine. I do not wish to speak of her."

Alinah frowned at this. Was he still in love with her? Would he ever be able to let her go? Would she always be second place to this singer?

Erik noticed her smile fade, and added for assurance,

"Especially now that I am in love with you."

She gave a weak smile in return, but she still couldn't prevent the suspicions that arose in her mind. She took a sip of water and chose to ignore the jealousy that spread through her chest.

"Okay...um..." she was hesitant to ask, but she could see no anger or frustration on his face. "What was your life like before the Opera House, and how did you come to live there?"

Erik swallowed hard. He knew that the question was inevitable, but it proved to be more difficult to discuss than he thought.

He could still hear his owner's raspy voice shouting, "Come and see 'The Devil's Child'!", he could still hear the laughter and taunts in his mind, and he closed his eyes to control his temper.

"I...I was part of a traveling show..."

"Oh? A festival of sorts?" she asked enthusiastically. She could imagine a carnival, perhaps, with games and rides and laughing children. Or perhaps it was a talent show. After all, he was very talented.

"Of sorts," he muttered.

"You do not have to tell me, Erik," she placed a hand over his to comfort him when she noticed his face distort in agony.

"It was...it was a...I was...they called me 'The Devil's Child'."

Alinah muffled a gasp and tears formed in her eyes.

"A cloth sack covered my face until the customers would pay to see...I was beaten...I...I'm sorry!" he covered his face with his hands, trying to choke down the tears that had formed but had not fallen. "I cannot discuss it..."

Alarmed, she stood up and went over to him, urging him to look at her. The look in his eyes made her mentally chide herself for her stupidity. How could she have ruined a perfectly good meal with things that she did not need to know?

She softly touched his cheek and placed a kiss on his lips.

"I do not want to see you in pain," she murmered, pressing her forehead to his as she closed her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap, which caused her to gasp, but she allowed it anyway.

"You are so beautiful..." he whispered, slowly taking out the pins in her hair. Once it fell from its twist, he ran his fingers through it. She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The feeling of her in his arms had completely taken his mind off of his previous thoughts, and replaced them with things that would make her blush, if spoken. He could not help but to smile when she had kissed him again.

"I am glad that you learned to sing and play. Had you sung to me the night that I first arrived, I'm afraid that I would have been doomed!" she giggled. She sat up to glance into his eyes, with an amused expression on her face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused as to her change in behavior. He could see the coy smile that played upon her lips.

"I mean that I would have been in danger of falling madly in love with you, instantly."

He frowned.

"Is it my voice that has cast a spell, for you to love me?"

How could he not have thought of it sooner? Christine had always been mesmerized by his singing, and although he was not a prideful man, he wondered if perhaps it had done the same thing to Alinah. Would she have ever loved him if she had never heard him sing?

She laughed softly at his dejected expression, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"My dear Erik, you are a silly man! It was a compliment," she said. "I know that you are not accustomed to them, but you will have to be, for I will shower you with many!"

"But I don't understand..." he still frowned, "Was it my music that induced you-"

She placed a finger to his lips to silence him.

"I have only ever heard you sing once, and I loved you even before that time. I do hope that you do not hold out on me, though, as you seem to think that you have cast a spell over me! I would be quite disappointed if I could never hear it again..."

She felt the smoothness of his chin, and decided on whether or not to kiss him, when her stomach emitted a low growl to counter her thoughts. She had hardly eaten anything, as she had been intent on easing his worries.

"I do hope that I have not ruined your appetite," she admitted sheepishly as she stood up. Erik reluctantly released her and watched her take her seat again.

"Not at all," he replied in a husky voice.

She noted the insinuation in his tone, and she blushed.

"Good. Because I have made a dessert that I think you shall enjoy very much."

For the rest of the night, the two talked about interests, preferences, and trivial things. Laughter could be heard errupting from the room, and they found their conversation drifting well into the night.

Once Alinah had noticed the time on the clock, she began to clean up. Erik picked up a few dishes, but she discouraged him with a light pat of her hand.

"That is what you have servants for!" she chided gently, taking the plates from his hands.

"Nonsense! Servants cook food. You create masterpieces, therefore; you are not a servant!"

She giggled.

"Had you cooked for me the very first night that you arrived, I would have fallen madly in love with you, instantly," he chuckled.

"Oh, I see!" she feigned injury, "You only want me around for my cooking!"

After their laughter had died down, Erik grew serious. Alinah's smile faded when she noticed the intent in his eyes. She reddened and tried to focus on her task.

"You really must stop looking at me like that," she muttered, reaching for the empty glass to pile on top of her dirty dishes.

"Or...what?" he asked, slowly inching closer to her. Her pulse raced, but she chose to look away and to ignore him.

"You are distracting me from my duties."

Erik could see that she was stubborn about her chore, and despite her constant refusal, he helped her. She sighed, frustrated, but she was thankful nonetheless as he wiped a dish dry with a cloth.

Once finished, she glanced at the clock and said,

"I really must be getting to sleep. Goodnight, Erik."

She placed a peck on his cheek and he frowned.

"Must you leave so soon?"

She placed a light kiss on his lips, one much too short for her liking, and dismissed herself before he could persuade her otherwise.

Erik stood in place for a few minutes before he finally left for his room, with a smile on his face. For once in his life, he had enjoyed a meal with the woman that he loved, for once in his life, he enjoyed conversation, and for once in his life, he felt..._human_.


	44. Chapter 44

**Okay, so this chapter might be boring for some, but it's necessary. There can't always be drama packed in every chapter :P But, things will pick up in the next chapter or so.**

**Also, I enjoy writing this story, so I do not feel pressured to continue. I decided that my original, short ending was boring, anyway.**

**Summers1: My next fanfic will be Erik/Christine. As a reader, myself, I never read E/C fics because I feel like she already had her chance. But a great idea popped into my head and I think it will be unique (at least, I haven't seen a fic with a similar plot, but I could be mistaken). I will probably write another E/OC fic in the future. And thanks!**

**michellecariveau: I'm glad you're excited! I don't want it to end either, because I love writing it. **

**Destiny Rains Evans: Thanks!**

**1AmberSkye1: I couldn't agree with you more!**

**Fairytailx15: Thank you! **

**FantomPhan33: LOL, I'm trying to keep it K-rated, as sometimes those mature scenes can lose respect quickly. And what a fitting song! I never thought of that!**

**Filhound: Thanks!**

*******Just to clarify because of past confusion...when the story has ended, I will not only label the chapter as 'Final Chapter', but I will also put 'THE END' at the bottom. So unless you see otherwise, the story continues!**

Ch. 44

The clock chimed seven times the next morning, and Alinah slowly made her way to the kitchen, rubbing her tired eyes and yawning. She vowed that as long as she remained a servant, she would need to go to sleep at a decent time every night, regardless of how tempting it may be to stay up with her Master. She had services to perform and obligations to meet, especially now that she was the only servant, aside from Mr. Harris, and she would need to compensate for it.

A dull ache formed in her temples, and her limbs felt heavy. She wondered how she would ever stay awake for the entirety of the day, and the thought of tending the garden made her groan inwardly.

Upon entering the kitchen, she was met with the sweet fragrance of flowers. A large, overflowing bouquet of red roses sat elegantly in a glass vase on the counter, and along with it, a note. She smiled to herself, giddy with excitement as she smelled one of the flowers and picked up the letter. This time, instead of bearing a skull, there was a crimson rose seal.

"Alinah,

Once you have finished with breakfast, please join me in the garden.

E."

She glanced out of the window to see the thriving bushes and plants, but she could see no one outside. She frowned, wondering if he was out there and waiting for her, but she set to the task of preparing a cinnamon-flavored brioche with warm apple marmalade, anyway.

She prepared a tray for both her Master and Mr. Harris and made her way upstairs. She knocked on Erik's door, but no one answered. No music or sound could be heard, either.

"Erik?" she asked. It was rather strange for him not to be in his room.

Still, nothing. Sighing, she left and went to Mr. Harris' room. Upon answering, he noticed the two plates on her tray and frowned.

"My dear girl, your cooking is marvelous, but if you think that my appetite is that large then you are quite mistaken!"

She chuckled at his humor and replied,

"Part of it was for Eri-Monsieur Deberaux."

Hearing her Master's proper name come from her own lips felt unusual and foreign, for she was so accustomed to using his first name, but she did not want to appear unprofessional. Although Mr. Harris already knew of their feelings for each other, she refused to let that be a reason to neglect her duties and manners as a servant.

She did not want neither her feelings for her Master, nor his feelings for her, to obscure the reality that she was still a mere employee. She would not treat him any differently than she would an employer. She wanted him to prove her love for her, and until her position changed, she would not form a hope that could greatly disappoint her. She wanted all of him, including his surname, and if she couldn't have that, then she would not give in so easily to his improper behavior.

After all, if he did ask, would she even be capable of making him happy? She thought back to the many times when she had failed Walter. It seemed that he had always been upset with her about something, whether it was that she didn't have enough friends in society, or that she was not as accomplished as other fine women, or her appearance wasn't anything extraordinary. And the biggest failure of all had been the fact that she hadn't produced an heir.

But, would Erik want children? She knew that he lacked confidence and self-esteem, so she felt that perhaps he had not the desire to produce offspring, in fear that they would inherit his deformity. Even if that were so, and he didn't want children, she would always feel guilty for having her disability. To hold a baby in her arms and to call it her own was a joy that she would never know, but she yearned for.

Perhaps she could make him happy, now, but what would happen if he grew tired of her? Would she always be able to satisfy him? She was free, yes; but she was still a broken woman on the inside. How could she learn to be a good wife if she did not have the experience?

Her thoughts returned to the present moment when Mr. Harris eagerly took the plate of food and left the other on her tray.

"Do you, by any chance, know where he is? I do not think that he is in his room..." she asked.

"I haven't a clue," he replied. After he took a bite of his brioche, which was crispy but soft on the inside and still warm, he smiled. It reminded him of apple pie. "If you continue to feed me these sweets, I am afraid that all of this sugar will be the death of me."

Alinah laughed, and he couldn't help but to chuckle. It seemed that not only was their employer in a better mood, lately, but also the stern and hard-hearted Butler was, as well.

"Perhaps he is in the garden..." she thought aloud to herself. Mr. Harris slowly closed the door, but not before she caught the words,

"I find that highly unlikely."

Still, she decided that it was worth a try to search outside. She went downstairs and returned the tray, but decided to take the plate of food with her. She had not yet eaten, herself, but she wanted everyone else to be served before she could relax enough to do so.

She put on a light coat and made her way to the garden. Once she was outside, however; she found that she really hadn't needed a coat, as the weather had improved greatly. It was breezy, but the sunshine warmed her skin.

When she had reached the courtyard, she gasped with excitement at what she saw. The fountain had been tended to, and water flowed from it and trickled softly down its tiers. She walked closer to it and played with the water with her finger, awe-inspired by the serenity that encompassed the once-lifeless garden. She could easily find solitude among the flowers and would enjoy watching the fountain.

"Does it please you?"

She jumped, startled, and nearly threw the brioche off of the plate when she heard his voice close to her ear. She turned around to see a smirking Erik. She placed her free hand on her chest, hoping to settle her beating heart.

"Don't scare me in such a way!"

He was clearly amused by her reaction and didn't respond.

"It is beautiful," she added. Then, she held the plate out to him. "This is for you."

He eyed the food suspiciously, but took it, nonetheless. He noticed the way she would glance at the familiar grove of trees that hid the small creek on the property, and her face would show her fear. He wondered if perhaps she was remembering the tragic events of not long ago.

"Does it still bother you? The thought of her?" he asked with concern. She immediately fixed her gaze back on him and refused to look at the trees again.

"Sometimes. I am just troubled by the fact that you almost lost your life because of me," she admitted. He could see the misery in her features.

"Mademoiselle, you underestimate me," he smiled a toothy grin, "For I am the Phantom of the Opera."

She gave a weak smile, but that did not put her mind at ease. Still, there was something that had been nagging at her mind, plaguing her with a twisted curiosity.

"Whatever happened to...to her?"

She had felt that she could not rest until she knew that Vivienne was gone, for good. Not only did she worry about someone else discovering her location, let alone someone finding out the truth about her employer and coming after him, and she did not want to worry about whether or not the wrathful woman would return for her.

"It has been taken care of," he responded, not wishing to discuss the particulars. He did not want to frighten or burden her with unnecessary worry. Still, she didn't seem convinced, so he added, "I buried her."

Alinah nodded in understanding and said no more. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and her features instantly softened. He saw how she stared at his plate of food and her stomach growled.

"Why have you not eaten?" he asked. He almost felt ashamed to eat in front of her, so he left the food on the plate, instead.

She glanced down at her feet, embarrassed. "Because I must make certain that you receive yours, first."

He sighed with frustration. "Must we continue this way?"

He wondered if the previous night had even happened. Had it all been his imagination? Had he dreamt that she had confessed her love for him? He could remember the way her lips felt, and how soft her skin was when he held her in his arms, the way she had teased and laughed with him as they dined together. But looking at her polite and shy countenance, he wondered if he had been mistaken as to whether their time together had been real.

"I am still your servant, Monsieur. You would expect no less from anyone else."

"Erik," he corrected her, annoyed.

"Monsieur Deberaux," she repeated stubbornly.

He sighed in defeat and ran his fingers through his hair. "You delight in torturing me, do you not?"

She only grinned mischievously and did not reply.

"Nevertheless, if you are my servant and must obey me, then I order you to eat your breakfast so that we might leave. The carriage will arrive, shortly. Tell Mr. Harris to join us."

Her smile faded and her brows furrowed in confusion. "Leave? Where are we going?"

She wondered if someone was coming for them, and they would need to escape. She hoped that she had not been the reason for driving him away from his own home.

"We have an errand to run in town," he replied calmly. "Now, go."

She breathed a sigh of relief, and before she left, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek, but refused to do any more than that. She could hear him mutter under his breath as she walked away,

"Insatiable Temptress!"

Still smiling, one question lingered in her mind: where could they possibly be going?


	45. Chapter 45

**TheCrimsonPen: Haha, close! But, you'll just have to see ;)**

**To answer people's question about Jonathan's previous employer, and the disappearing daughter...that wasn't a hint for his character, I was just weaving in my original characters in my novel "Sight" on fictionpress . net. That is not a fanfic, and I created all of the characters myself, so I thought it would be fun to link them together, somehow.**

Ch. 45

The short carriage-ride of twenty-five minutes to town was not lacking in confusion and was abundant in mental-fogginess. Alinah had analyzed every possible reason for going to town, but she could find none logical or appropriately-fitting her Master. He was not one to leave his estate, let alone his room, and often Mr. Harris had been his errand-runner. But yet, she noticed the quiet and calm Butler, sitting across from her in a nonchalant mannerism, and she wondered why it had been necessary for him to join them. Perhaps it was a good thing, after all, to have a chaperone, with someone like Erik around.

Mr. Harris stared out of the window and Erik remained silent, so she thought it best not to interfere with their quiet reveries. Instead, she focused her sights on a small shop outside of the window once the carriage had stopped moving. She squinted her eyes to see the displays of dresses in the windows.

"A garment shop? Why on earth would we be here?" Mr. Harris asked abruptly. He eyed his employer suspiciously, and Alinah, too, waited for an answer.

"Because she is need of a few dresses," Erik stated simply.

Alinah furrowed her brows at him.

"I do not have the salary to purchase any dresses, and should I have it, I would not bring two gentleman with me!" she complained. What were his motives, anyway?

Erik smirked at her, expecting her uncooperation.

"I have taken care of everything. All that you must do is go inside and pick them of your choosing. Mr. Harris and I shall wait out here, in case anything should happen."

While Alinah had half the mind to thank him for wishing to protect her, the other half wanted to reprimand him for his behavior. To purchase new gowns for a servant was preposterous, and almost offensive to her. If he did not intend on making her his wife, then surely he was mocking her by showering her with gifts, and she would not have it. She refused to be swayed by material things and romantics, for at the end of the day, she was still his servant and nothing more.

"Monsieur Deberaux, that is highly inappropriate to do such a thing for a servant-girl," Mr. Harris said.

"I agree," Alinah added. "I could never afford to repay you, and you would not behave this way for any other servant."

Erik was growing impatient, having other things that he needed to tend to.

"She only has two day dresses and it is my duty to provide her basic needs. You cannot expect to work with only two garments, can you, Mr. Harris?"

The Butler was silent.

"Good," then, he turned to Alinah. "Select a few day dresses to your liking. And, as I know you to be a modest creature, I only request that you choose one fine evening gown, however fancy you may wish. And should you disobey me, then you will be missing out on a great opportunity."

"A great opportunity?" she repeated, a puzzled look on her face. "For what?"

Erik's grin returned, only this time, it was wider. "A Masquerade Dinner."

"What?!" Mr. Harris and Alinah both responded simultaneously. Despite her better judgement, she felt the excitement grow within her. A masquerade! Why, Erik would fit in perfectly!

She had never much enjoyed balls or gatherings when she had been married to Walter, as often times the company was rude and arrogant. But the thought of dancing with Erik and enjoying a night out with him was very tempting, to say the least. Though she wouldn't admit it, he had found something that she simply could not refuse, servant or not!

"Monsieur, that is a most unwise decision that I-"

Erik put a hand up to silence his Butler.

"I want to hear none of it from you. We will discuss this, later."

He shooed Alinah out of the carriage and she reluctantly walked into the shop. The chiming of the bell only increased her feelings of guilt and uncertainty. She had never enjoyed using other people's money, regardless of how enthusiastic they had been to give it to her. She always felt that she would need to repay them, somehow, and upon glancing at the outfits around the room, she knew that it would take years of her meager salary to do so.

Meanwhile, the two men sat outside in the carriage.

"What is the meaning of this?" Mr. Harris asked, his frustration growing. The ethical voice inside of him would not allow him to remain impartial to his employer's biased behavior.

"I simply wish to take her to a Masquerade. There is a theatre opening in town, and tomorrow marks the grand celebration. It is the only opportunity for us to enjoy a public event, together."

Mr. Harris nodded in acknowledgement. He realized that his employer could not show his face to the public, and that this was the only guise that would allow him to do so. But still, he could not silence his conscience.

"Might I ask, what do you intend to do with her? You are stringing her along and you could very well ruin her reputation if anyone should find out. I suggest that if you do not intend on marrying her, that you stop this nonsense, immediately!"

"That leads me to my next question," Erik sighed impatiently. He was growing rather tired of his Butler's need to speak his mind.

Erik pulled out a couple of folded-up sheets of paper from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Harris.

"Will you run and fetch me these?"

Mr. Harris opened the bunch of papers and his confusion only increased. "Why would you want one of these?"

"You will see if you look at the next page."

He casually glanced over the first page before he looked at the second, and his eyes widened.

"Both I have designed myself. Make certain that the notes are correct, as I have included the sheet music for it. I trust that you will find what I am looking for?"

"Y-yes! Immediately!" Mr. Harris replied, getting out of the carriage. Before he left, he turned to his employer.

"I suspect that she will be a while, but I expect you to return before she does," Erik said. He glanced at the dress shop, but could see no sign of her leaving.

"Very well, Sir."

And with that, Mr. Harris set about to fulfill his new task.

"That looks simply marvelous on you, dear!" the shopkeeper exclaimed loudly.

Alinah frowned in the looking glass as the seamstresses pinned the gown on her to show a proper fitting. It had already been forty minutes, and she was growing tired of trying on dresses. She had already chosen three day dresses (as the shopkeeper, Madeline, had urged her that she needed one more when she had selected two) and she found herself already feeling uncomfortable with her choices. She had chosen the simplest and most modest dresses that she could find, which had been quite a task in this particular shop, but now she was searching for her gown for the Masquerade.

Simply the thought of it made her want to squeal with delight. She felt like an adolescent girl who was coming out into society, all over again.

But still, while the light-blue dress that she wore had brought out the color in her eyes, she did not feel as if it was the one for her. Noticing her slight grimace when she turned around in the mirror to get a better view, Madeline asked,

"What do you not like about it?"

Alinah sighed, trying to decide what it was. Although it had lace and beads, it felt as if it were missing something.

"I don't know. It is lacking, but I am not quite certain of what."

Madeline nodded and gestured for the girls to help her out of the dress.

"Do you want more lace, more beads, a different color, a different style?"

Alinah's mind was whirling. Too many decisions! How ridiculous it was for there to be so many options, she thought to herself.

"A different color...perhaps something deeper."

"Do you mind exposing your shoulders? You do have quite lovely skin."

"I do not mind, as long as it is modest," Alinah responded.

"And the beading? Do you want it to glisten when you walk?"

"Yes, as long as it is not excessive. I do like glistening."

Madeline skimmed her inventory with a few perfectly-manicured fingernails until her hand rested on one in particular. "Ah!" she exlaimed as she picked up the dress. "Try this!"

Alinah was handed the dress and she smiled at the color. The shade was a mixture of plum and dark fuschia. Once she was wearing it, she gasped at herself in the mirror.

The sleeves, off-shoulder but the corset wasn't too low. It revealed the perfect amount of skin, without appearing promiscuous. The bodice, tight-fitting and shimmering with beads and gems. The train, long but not tiresome. The purple skirts parted for an elegant underdress of a cream-colored fabric covered in black lace. The underskirts, too, glittered when she turned.

"It is perfect..." she breathed. Then, she turned to the shopkeeper with a look of concern on her face. "But, what is the cost?"

"Far below the limit that the purchaser has set. You must have a wealthy relative, or, perhaps, a husband? Hmmm? He will be pleased with your choice," Madeline winked.

Alinah smiled, although she felt ashamed. What a scandal it would be for the shopkeeper to discover that it was her employer! She reddened in the face at the thought.

"Now, we must find a pair of shoes..." Madeline suggested.

"Oh, no! I couldn't possibly-"

"Nonsense, dear! You can't wear those tarnished things!" she pointed to the worn out ones that Alinah was currently wearing and frowned. "Now, come with me!"

One hour later, much to Alinah's dismay, she made her way back to the carriage. She had not been allowed to see the cost of her purchases, and she was grateful of this fact. When she stepped into the carriage, she felt guilty for making the two men wait for nearly three hours.

"Please forgive me for taking so long," she sighed, sitting down across from them on the red velvet seat.

Erik noticed her fatigue as she brushed a stray hair out of her wind-blown face. He frowned.

"Did none of them suit you?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, they did. I just never want to repeat such an experience, again."

"Why not?" he grew worried. "Were you treated poorly?"

"No, not at all!" she replied quickly to ease his concern. "Quite the opposite. But when one has hardly slept at all the previous night, dress-shopping can be a tedious task."

Erik nodded in agreement, his expression softening. "Did you find a dress for tomorrow night?"

"T-tomorrow?" she glanced up at him with wide eyes. She could feel her anticipation grow within her, and she knew that the next day would go by slowly, seemingly unending, until the ball.

"I did," she added. She had not expected such a turn of events, but she was happy about it. Finally, a chance to get out of the house, without risking notice!

The carriage was urged to return to the estate, and yet another silent ride ensued. But she could not help but to wonder at Mr. Harris' thoughts when she caught a glimpse of him smirking out of the corner of her eye.


	46. Chapter 46

**Wow, thank you so much for all of the reviews for the previous chapter!**

**Dona Lara: Thank you! Don't worry, I have something wonderful planned for the next chapters to come!**

**michellecariveau: I'm glad that you're so excited. If I had more time, I would have posted more for you. But I hope that your patience will be rewarded, soon!**

**Fairytailx15, Filhound, 1AmberSkye1: Aw, thanks!**

**TheCrimsonPen: I know, right? I want to dress all fancy and dance! My dream costume would be some elegant, poofy and sparkly dress, probably of silk and maybe red (my favorite color). I would want a glittery/jeweled mask with peacock feathers on it. Or maybe the dress that I described in this story. What about your dream costume?**

**A.B.P: I love your review!**

*****I know that you guys all think you have it pegged...they'll go to a Masquerade and bond, then something/someone will get in the way and drama will ensue...perhaps Christine or Jonathan...but wait until you see what surprise I have in store for you! As I said before, this story will not be predictable.**

Ch. 46

Only the sounds of the crackling fire and the soft ticks of the clock filled the room, as Alinah passed the time by reading a book. Dinner was to be prepared soon, but she had finished everything early for the day, and time was going very slowly. She reasoned that it was because she was eager for the next day to begin, and her anticipation slowed the concept of time.

"Ms. Claude, a letter has arrived for you," Mr. Harris announced. He noticed the young woman, with her back turned to him, reading quietly beside the fireplace.

She glanced up from her page and saw him standing in the doorway, holding an envelope. She gingerly set down her book on the divan and rose to her feet. Once the letter was placed in her hands, he left her to her privacy.

She walked back to the divan and slowly took a seat, distracted by the thoughts of receiving a note. She worried that perhaps it was Jonathan, or maybe even worse. Would it be about Walter's death? Had someone noticed the Mistress' absence? Was someone after the Phantom of the Opera? Her breath caught in her throat when she read the sender's name and she opened it with trembling fingers.

"Dearest Alinah,

I have allowed some time to pass before writing to you, so that I should avoid raising suspicion. I fear that someone has broken into my home while I was away, and they have stolen your letters to me-I found the box that I kept them in shattered to bits on the floor. I am afraid that I do not know who could have done this, and I pray that they do not find you, although I know that they probably will.

I do hope that you are not in any danger because of what has happened. Please write to me as soon as you can, and assure me that you are safe. I cannot rest until I know. I have included my sister's address of residence so that your letter may be kept hidden from others.

Elinor."

Surprised, Alinah reread the words again, and then she sighed with relief. Her heart had been weighed down with thoughts of being betrayed by her trusted friend, but receiving the letter had eased her mind. After all, it was not beyond Vivienne to do such a heinous thing, and Elinor had been a sort of mother-figure to Alinah. She should have known better than to blame her dear friend.

She was eager to respond, and she went to fetch a few sheets of paper and set about to writing. How she longed to see the elderly woman once again, as her last visit had been cut short, but she knew that it was too much of a risk to do so anytime soon. This thought made her heart wilt within her chest.

Though she had not known Elinor for very long, in those few short moments, the woman had been more of a loving mother than her own flesh and blood.

Her thoughts wandered to her birth mother; a woman of four-and-forty years old, with graying brown hair and eyes hardened with fatigue. While Alinah had been a perfect mixture of her parents in her appearance, she found that she could never relate to them as a child and young adult.

Her father was much older than her mother, and all of his hair was a dark silver, accompanied by a thick mustache on his top lip. He wore round spectacles about the nose, and was often seen with a pipe of tobacco in his mouth. A man of very little wealth himself, he had married her mother with barely a penny to her name.

On the rare occasions that her father was home, he would have been seen in his study. It was a small room, but the little desk sitting in the corner of it had been enough to keep him occupied for hours. He was almost non-existent, for when he had joined them once-in-a-while for a meal, his conversation had always been lacking. Only a few grumbled words would escape his lips, if he should be obligated to answer a question by his wife.

She could never understand the reason for her parents' marriage, as the two were opposite in personalities and rarely even dined together, let alone were seen in public with each other. Often, her mother would be surrounded by her own friends, laughing and gossiping, but Alinah could see the sadness behind her eyes whenever she should gaze across the room at her husband.

As far as his daughter was concerned, he left the duties of raising her to her mother. As a little girl, she had often tried to impress her father with an interest of hers in order to gain his attention if she should catch a glimpse of him somewhere, but most times he would walk past her without so much as a word. At the tender age of five years old, she remembered crying once, as the urge for him to hold her had been overpowering, yet he hadn't even cast a glance at her. Eventually, she had hardened her heart and became indifferent to his cold behavior, though during certain moments, her feelings would resurface and she would withdraw into her own silent bouts of depression.

Her mother, on the other hand, always seemed to have something to say to her. It seemed as if everything that Alinah had done would displease her mother, and she knew that not a single day would pass by without a reprimanding of some sort. Whether it be that she had dirtied her dress from playing outside, or she hadn't folded her linen correctly, she was certain to hear an earful.

"You must act like a lady!" she would chide. "You will never find a husband at this rate!"

It had been the desire of both parents for her to marry well. A rich, handsome man for a husband would have been the greatest gift that her mother could receive, and when Walter had appeared in her life, her mother had been ecstatic. Even after they had been married and Walter had showed signs of agression, her mother would justify his behavior by blaming it on Alinah.

"If you would only be cooperative, you stubborn girl! It is no wonder that he should behave in such a way!" she reasoned. "And are you ever going to produce a grandchild? The man should not have to wait his entire life for you to produce an heir!"

She had grown up feeling unworthy and incapable of being loved. Her mother's ridiculously-high expectations were impossible for Alinah to meet. As cruel as her parents had been, she had still longed for their compassion and affection. When she began to court Walter, he had somewhat filled that void with his charm and romanticism, only to rip a deeper hole into her heart later.

She also had had no friends or companions to confide in. She was often the odd one in social circles, as most other girls her age were brought up as accomplished young ladies and basked in their family's wealth. She could not find anything in common with rude and sometimes mean-hearted girls, and the thought of competing with them for a suitor had intimidated her. To them, courting was a game, and one that would not be conquered by the poor and lanky girl that she had been.

Cooking had been her passion in life, and one occupation that had saved her. She found that she could will her sorrows away with a warm soup or ease her troubled mind with a chocolate trifle. When she was creating dishes, she was a different person; a woman of confidence, fearlessness and a bright smile. How quickly Walter had extinguised that within her, and even went so far as to banish her from her love of cooking for many years.

Alinah repressed her gloomy thoughts and focused on the blank pages before her. Then, she began to write.

"Dear Elinor,

I cannot deny that something awful has happened. The person who did this was my late husband's Mistress, and she was seeking revenge for his death. It is such an awful memory that I do not wish to recount it, but I feel that I should, for your sake.

When she arrived...I shiver to think of the callous glint in her eyes as she sought to end my life. A fellow servant noticed my absence, as I had taken a stroll in the wilderness and she had found me there, and he distracted her momentarily. He wished to save my life, but he was gravely injured by her. Do not worry, for he is safe now-and far away from here.

My employer, too, came to my rescue. He struggled with her and was injured, but it resulted in her death. This is the very same man of whom I was telling you about, and I owe my life to him.

I am safe for the present moment, but I fear that the future may not be the same. Because some time has passed, I am almost certain that no one else shall find me for a while, but I cannot say the same for my Master. Oh, Elinor, I cannot tell you of his secrets, but he is misunderstood. His past haunts him, and there are others out there who seek him out. He is not a wicked man, mind you, and I am safe with him. But I fear for him.

Please let me know if you have received this letter. I wish so very much that I could see you again, but I shall settle for your response.

With Regards,

Alinah."

She set the quill down and gently blew on the paper to dry the ink. Once she was certain that it was ready, she folded it and sealed it before she set off in search of Mr. Harris.

Alinah slowly crept up the stairs and toward her Master's bedroom. She could hear the sound of his music seemingly bringing to life everything around her, and she grew anxious about disturbing him. Still, the notes froze in mid-air once she had knocked on the door, and her nervousness increased in the silence.

The door was opened, and she could see the troubled lines on Erik's face. He seemed to be frustrated and stressed about something, but it didn't seem to be directed towards her.

"Will you dine with me, tonight?" she asked in a small voice.

He seemed rather distracted, and even though he was looking at her, he almost seemed to be looking past her.

"Forgive me, but now is not a good time."

She nodded and attempted to hide her disappointment. He noticed the saddened expression on her face and his features softened, not wishing to cause her grief.

"I am sorry to have bothered you," she said.

He sighed, frustrated with himself. He had spent the past two hours composing, and the music that he was working on was nearly complete, yet it was missing something. He had scribbled on it, scratched out certain notes, and rewritten it multiple times, the blotches of ink smearing on the papers, but to no avail.

Hoping to lighten her spirits in some way, he told her to wait patiently at the door while he retrieved a box from his desk. When he returned, her eyes roamed over the crimson velvet box that he held out to her.

"I had planned everything out in my mind as to how I wanted to give you this," he admitted. "But I am afraid that my patience has escaped me."

Her bright blue eyes widened and a smile formed on her lips once the box was opened. It sparkled with the slightest movement.

"Oh, Erik..." she breathed. It had been so unexpected that she was at a loss for words.


	47. Chapter 47

**I might elaborate on this chapter a different time. I'm sorry for those who read it as a rough draft, as it could be so much better but I was in a hurry today.**

**Thank you all for the continued reviews.**

Ch. 47

Inside of the box lay an elegant purple half-mask embellished with gold engravings and teal gemstones. Beautiful peacock feathers bordered the edges, and she carefully touched them, feeling their softness. How she loved the shades of purples, blues, golds, and greens in them.

"It is so...so extravagant!" she exclaimed with happiness.

Erik's brows furrowed with worry. "Is it too much?"

"No, it is perfect!" she replied with delight. She gently took the box from his hands and continued to stare at the mask, amazed. "Thank you!"

With that, he excused himself to return to his music, but not without a smile on his face when he caught his last glimpse of her reaction.

Alinah immediately went to her room and closed the box, placing it on her dressing table for safe-keeping. She opened a drawer and pulled out a smaller box, opening it to reveal the small purple pendant that Elinor had given her, long ago. She had tucked it away for preservation, as she knew that if she wore it every day that it would be damaged. She fingered the teardrop-shaped stone with admiration, deciding that it would be a fitting companion to her gown for the Masquerade. It was simple and delicate, but not without value in her eyes, and the color matched her attire exceedingly well.

She stacked the boxes together, eager for the next day to arrive. How was she ever to wait for so long?

Then, she went to her looking-glass and stared at her reflection. She turned her head from side-to-side, contemplating how she would arrange her hair for the grand celebration. Should she leave it down and pin up half of it in curls? Or should she pin all of it up but let a few curls escape?

The rest of her night consisted of trivial thoughts such as these. She could not take her mind off of the night to come, and she found herself daydreaming often. She could imagine how handsome Erik would be, perhaps he would dress in crimson and black attire, or would he choose to reflect the same colors that she wore? Would they be able to enjoy themselves? More importantly, would he propose?

She tossed and turned in bed for at least an hour that night. She wasn't certain what time it was when she finally fell asleep, but her rest was the most peaceful that it had ever been.

As expected, the next day dragged on slowly. Both Erik and Mr. Harris were nowhere to be found, and she could only assume that they were making preparations for the Masquerade. It was a Friday afternoon, and the sun was behaving perfectly for her mood; bright, shining, and warm. She didn't even need a coat as she watered the garden. The soft breeze felt refreshing on her skin.

She set her watering can down and wiped the sweat off of her forehead. Tending the garden had been tedious and difficult, but she looked forward to seeing the fruitage of her hard work.

As it was three o'clock in the afternoon and she had nothing to do, she decided to draw a bath. Once she had filled the tub with water and sat down, she leaned her head back on the edge and tilted her face toward the ceiling as she sighed. The hot water felt marvelous on her aching body, and she closed her eyes.

She didn't know how long she had spent there as her fingers and toes pruned, but when she heard the clock chime five times, she rose out of the water and dried herself off. She was anticipating that either Erik or Mr. Harris should return at any moment, as she knew that they would be leaving soon for the ball. She changed into a light rose-colored day dress and drained the tub.

The closer that the day turned into the afternoon, and then the evening, she felt the excitement accumulate within herself, until she felt that it would burst from her chest. She made her way back to her room and when she opened her door, she was greeted with the purple dress that had been laid out on her bed. Her new dresses had arrived that very morning, and she had carefully put away her day dresses, only to leave out her special one so that she might admire it. She did not want a single wrinkle to kink the satin fabric, and she gently ran her hands over its length to ensure that it was unharmed.

She smiled when she saw how it glimmered in the light. Never before had she seen such a beautiful dress, and the thought of wearing it for the night overwhelmed her with joy.

She heard the front door slam shut and she made her way into the hall to see Erik climbing the stairs. She frowned when she saw the worry and stress on his face. He seemed to be deep in thought, troubled by something, and he hadn't even noticed her until she spoke.

"Is there something wrong?"

His head snapped up to see her standing at the top of the stairs and he stopped in front of her. He forced a smile in an attempt to reassure her, but she wasn't convinced. She had never seen him look so distracted and contemplative, seemingly struggling with something within. She knew that he was hiding something from her, and he wasn't acting like himself.

"Not at all," he replied softly. His green eyes observed her with a weighed anxiety.

"Has someone discovered our location?"

"Why would you think that?" he asked. He closed the distance between them and brushed her cheek softly with his fingers. He could see the fear in her eyes and he added, "I will not let any harm come to you."

She looked up at him, feeling the temptation to kiss him, but resisting. She knew that she should not give into him so easily, as she had yet to become aware of any intentions of marriage from him. The thought that perhaps he didn't want to marry her, after all, made her frown. She ignored the thought, reminding herself to be patient.

"I am not worried about myself. I do not want anything to happen to you," she responded. "Do you think that Jonathan would tell anyone?"

"I am not certain. Let us not think of that, now," he soothed. Forming a genuine smile on his face, he said, "Perhaps you should start to prepare for tonight. We will leave at half-past six."

She grinned and nodded in agreement, almost forgetting her concern. She pulled away from him, much to his disappointment, and returned to her room.

Upon glancing at the dress again, she furrowed her brows in confusion. How was she ever to dress herself? She was not accustomed to wearing corsets, and the last time that she had worn one was when she was with Walter. Who would help her to lace herself up and to tighten the bodice of the dress for her? Certainly she couldn't reach it, herself.

She picked up the dress and inspected it, hoping that an idea would come to her. It would be inappropriate for Erik to assist her, and the only other person in the house was Mr. Harris. She cringed at the thought of him helping her into her dress. No doubt, he did not even know how to lace a corset, and the thought of any man seeing her indecent in her chemise made her redden with embarrassment.

As she stood and stared at the fabric in her hands, contemplating whether or not she could attempt it herself, she became aware of a voice shouting down the hallway. It was deep, but muffled by her closed door. She immediately set her dress down on her bed and opened her door, to hear Mr. Harris yelling from a distance.

She peaked into the hallway to see Erik's door slightly ajar, and a raving Mr. Harris throwing something down on the desk. Curious as to the commotion, she wandered into the hall. Perhaps it had something to do with Erik's strange behavior, and she wished to know the reason for it.

As she walked closer to the room, she could hear the words,

"Unbelievable, Monsieur! How could you do such a thing?!"

"It was not my intention, Mr. Harris-"

"Preposterous! What will Ms. Claude think of this?!"

Alinah's heart lept in her throat upon hearing her name. The dread formed a knot deep in her stomach and as she slowly opened the door further, she was reluctant. Perhaps it would be best for her to turn around and to pretend that she had heard nothing. She could continue with preparing for the evening, instead of hearing whatever terrible news awaited her in Erik's room. But deep down inside, she knew that the curiosity and worry would eat her up inside.

"Think of what?" she asked, clearing her voice. The two men looked up at her, an angry Mr. Harris standing beside Erik, who was sitting down at his desk with a concerned expression on his face. When he saw Alinah, he looked fearful.

"This does not concern you," he said, hoping to get her to leave. "Should you not be preparing yourself?"

"I heard my name in the conversation. What is going on?" she insisted. She noticed the newspaper on his desk and furrowed her brows in confusion. Was this what Mr. Harris had slammed down on the desk?

She inched closer to it, and before Erik could stop her, she caught sight of the headlines, "Madame DeChagny to Sing at Tonight's Grand Opening". Chills shot down her spine and gooseflesh formed on her arms. She suddenly felt sick, a nauseous twist gripping her stomach. A lump formed in her throat.

"It is her?" she almost whispered.

Mr. Harris' look of anger faded into remorse. He snatched the paper away from the desk before she could read further, but he knew that the damage was done. Erik shot a glare at the Butler and quickly stood up to defend himself.

"Alinah, I...I didn't know..."

"You didn't know?" she repeated in disbelief. The tears formed in her eyes, and her vision blurred as she watched him step closer to her. He could see the pain on her face, and his heart went out to her.

Mr. Harris could feel the tension forming in the air, threatening to erupt, and he walked to the door. Erik turned to him and shouted,

"Where do you think you are going? This is your fault!"

Mr. Harris turned to him. "This is something that you have done, yourself," and he left, closing the door behind him.

"Is this why you wanted to go tonight? Because of Christine?" her voice cracked, and her breaths became labored. She felt as if all of the air in her lungs had been forced out of her and all of the hope within her had shattered to pieces.

He inched closer to her, reaching his hand up to touch her, "No, I-"

"Don't touch me!" she yelled, pulling away.

The sting of rejection awakened his temper, and his hand fell to his side. He felt all of the emotions from being betrayed, abused, neglected, and loathed, all over again.

"You can't let her go, can you?"

The tears rolled silently down her face when she blinked, and he looked away from her, trying to contain his own emotion. He had to remind himself that her reaction was not because of his face, but it was difficult not to feel the self-loathing within himself.

"I was not aware that she would be there," he stated sadly. He took a deep breath and attempted to maintain a calm composure.

"Then why else would you go, if not to hear her voice again?" she questioned. "Do you wish to make a fool of me?"

"I did not wish to hurt you," he mumbled, almost too softly for her to hear him.

"I do not believe you!" she yelled. "How can I? She will always be a part of you, and I was mistaken to think that you could love me, instead..."

He turned around to look at her, his face softening.

"That is not true..."

Still, she stepped away from him when he attempted to draw closer to her, something that infuriated him to no end.

"I will never be her. I will never have a voice like hers, I will never be able to sing, I have not known you as long as she has and I have never shared what you two shared together. But _I_ am here, Erik! _I_ love you, and she does not!"

"Alinah, I know-"

"Stop!" she shouted. "Do not lie to me anymore! I should have known that you only responded to my love because you have been without affection for so long...That you still love her but you would take whatever affection that you could get from me...That is why you will not propose, isn't it? You may be desperate, but there is a limit, isn't there?"

"Do not say those things..." he warned, his jaw tightening and teeth clenched.

"What did you expect to happen tonight? That you would lead me on, string my heart along with you, that you could toy with my emotions until you saw her again? Were you hoping to win her back, so that you could leave me high and dry?"

She did not wait for a response.

"How could I have been so oblivious? I should have known better...You are a sad man! Still longing for something that you will never have and refusing to settle for anything less! One could admire your loyalty, but I despise it! I knew you to be a coward, but I did not expect this from you!"

"Be careful of what you say, Mademoiselle!" he hissed, eyes burning into her skin. "You are treading a thin line!"

"Go! Go and be miserable with her!" she sobbed, walking closer to the door. "I am done! I have had it with you! I am leaving, permanently!"

"Then leave!" he roared, feeling the stab of her words. "Leave, and never return if you are so miserable here!"

She slammed the door behind her and stormed off to her room. She ignored the dress on her bed and opened the drawer, throwing her two old dresses into her cloth sack. She left the new dresses, feeling the anger inside from simply looking at them.

She choked on her sobs and steadied herself against the dressing table as she broke down and gripped her stomach in pain. She tried to push her way through her tears, grabbing the small necklace from Elinor and making her way to her door. She wasn't certain where she was going to go, or what she would do, but she knew that she had to leave. A little voice inside of her head told her that she should go, and that everything was over. And she found herself listening.

That night, the darkness surrounded her and the wind blew on her face, strands of hair played upon her skin. Her eyes adjusted to the night, but she did not know where she was going. There was no light to be seen, no sign of life, as she clutched the bag tightly in her hand. Her legs grew weak, her knees threatened to give out, but she forced herself further. A barren field strectched out before her and she licked her dry lips, her throat parched.

Without warning, she fell to the hard ground, wincing from the contact. She didn't know how long she had been walking, or even where she was. She released her bag and buried her face in her hands, feeling the fatigue and raw emotions overwhelm her.

She imagined that Erik had gone to the Masquerade alone. He would not miss the opportunity to see her again, and the thought only increased Alinah's frustrations.

She was hopeless. She was lost, inside and out. She didn't know who she was without him. She laid down and rested her head on the earthy floor beneath her, glancing up at the starry night sky. The glistening specks of light reminded her of the first night that she had met him on the rooftop, and she closed her eyes, wishing to forget him.

* * *

**Thought that they would go to the Masquerade and have a run-in with Christine? That is too predictable ;)**


	48. Chapter 48

**Alright, so chapter 50 will be the last chapter. I know, I know, it's sad that it's ending. But it was a good run while it lasted. **

**I would like your opinion: should I rack my brain for an idea for a new O/C fic, or should I start the E/C one that I already have in mind?**

**And thank you so much for 200 reviews! When I started this story, I never would have thought that I would even get 10 reviews!**

Ch. 48

Erik sat beside the window, staring out at the sunset. He watched as the orange and purple hues slowly disappeared into the horizon, the color fading from the grounds before him as night began to fall.

The clock struck seven. Had things gone as planned, he would have left for the Masquerade long ago, and still, he contemplated leaving. It was not too late to arrive, as dinner was to be served at eight o'clock.

Part of him longed to go, anyway. It had been so long since he had seen her face, since he had heard her sing. He read in the newspaper that after the destruction of the Paris Opera House, she was on a long hiatus from performing. Rumor had it that she traveled far away from Paris to wed the Vicomte, and nothing was heard of her until recently. She had come out of hiding and decided to travel parts of France, but mostly England, and in these places, she would sing for theatres, new and old. She had become well-known everywhere, but she did not wish to stay in one place for long. Now might be the only chance for him to see her.

Would she sound the same? He wondered if her voice had changed, along with her appearance. He knew that she would be older, and therefore more mature, but he wondered if she was the same young woman that she once was; innocent, naive, frightened.

While he yearned to see her again, even if just to catch a glimpse of her, his thoughts drifted toward Alinah. Both women, so different in appearance and behavior.

Christine; the woman he had taught for years, big brown eyes full of curiosity. She had admired him for his voice, yet she coward in his presence. So untouched by the world and its anxieties, she possessed a girl-like charm and fascination, but at the same time she was easily afraid of the unknown. So full of compassion and pity, she was a good-natured person. Her smile lit up the room and making friends was not a difficult task, for she easily captured the hearts of those around her. Such a heavenly voice and a beautiful creature, yet he could not forget the fear in her eyes.

He had once thought that her fear could turn into love, that she would learn to hold more than pity for him in her heart. How mistaken he had been, as he now realized his foolish actions. If anything, he had scared her even more by his thoughtless impulses.

But Alinah was so vastly different. She shared similar chestnut-colored curls as Christine, but her blue-grey eyes were striking. It was the first observation that a person would make about her. While she was older than the Soprano, she had a look of ease about her. Christine always appeared on-edge and uneasy about herself, afraid of making mistakes or doing something to upset him, but Alinah was comfortable in the way that she carried herself.

She was not unscathed by sufferings and tragedies in her life, and at times, he could see the same sadness that he possessed flash in her eyes. But most of the time, she brought a bright cheerfulness to the room, even if she wasn't trying. She would hum to herself, dance with an invisible partner, and take delight in the smallest of things. She had a passion, a dream. She knew what she wanted in life, and she was not hesitant to work for it.

How Walter could have ever grew tired of her, Erik did not know. Though upon her arrival, her ways and habits had irritated him, they were now a part of him. He could not imagine passing through life without her. She was brave, fearless, and bold, to have loved him-he, the Opera Ghost, with the face of so unearthly and disfigured!

He no longer needed to dwell on the Masquerade, or on his former student. The bitter memories of Christine were enough to chase him away. The woman that he now loved had left him, and without a carriage, at that. She had been walking for some time, and she could be anywhere.

And he would find her.

The pitch-black darkness enveloped the carriage as it followed the dirt road. Only the sounds of the horses' hooves stomping on the dry ground, seemingly in unison, could be heard from a distance.

Both Erik and Mr. Harris peered out of the windows, one person on each side, and squinted their eyes in a desperate attempt to see better. Occasionally, the shadow of a nearby rock or shrub would appear, but nothing further than that. Already, they had been on their quest for hours.

"This is hopeless," Mr. Harris sighed. "It is far too dark to see anything. Who knows where she could have gone."

Erik nodded in sad agreement. Despite his strong motivation to find her, the very desire that would keep him up all night and prevent him from sleeping, he had to admit that he would be forced to wait until the dawn of the next day before resuming his search.

"Perhaps you are right and we should wait," he admitted.

Mr. Harris noticed his Master's melancholy mood and sighed again, feeling quite forlorn himself.

After ordering the driver to direct the carriage back to the estate, the two men leaned back in their seats and ceased their hunt, though Erik could not help but to glance out of the window every-so-often, anyway. A long silence ensued as he contemplated the situation, harsh and distressed lines appearing on his face.

"I truly was not aware that...that Christine would be there," he said, folding his hands in his lap.

Mr. Harris heard him but did not reply.

"That one detail ruined the entire night. Now, she is gone. And she probably loathes the very thought of me," Erik said. "How weak she must think me to be. She must think that I wished to go back to Christine, but how wrong she was."

"She does not hate you," Mr. Harris assured him. "It was a misunderstanding. How would you have felt if the roles were reversed? Surely with your temper you would have reacted the same, if not worse."

Though he did not want to, Erik agreed.

"Do you still think about her? About Christine?"

His Master took a deep breath and searched for the correct way to express his feelings.

"I cannot deny that there is a part of me that will always suffer because of her. The pain will never vanish entirely. But, the thought of Alinah far outweighs any memory of Christine that I may have."

"You still do not long for Christine's love?"

"Never once did Christine kiss me out of her own desire, never once did she tell me that she loved me. Admiration, fear, and pity was all that she felt. I would be a fool to go back to her, because she made her choice, long ago," Erik replied. "And I love Alinah...I love her! I do not have to hide from her or use fear to get what I want. I never would have imagined that she could ever feel the way that she does about me...I do not ever wish to lose those sentiments."

He thought about how differently the night could have gone; with Alinah by his side, dancing, laughing, being in his arms. He imagined that she would have looked absolutely stunning in her dress and mask. Instead, her location was unknown, and he feared for her safety. She could have been anywhere. She could be injured. She could have been preyed upon.

Erik shuddered to think of all of the possible consequences and scenarios that could befall her, and he would never forgive himself if she had been harmed in some sort of way. He prayed that she would be safe until she was found.

Erik spared no time the next morning, and he began his search as soon as the sun began to rise and a soft light cast upon his surroundings. Exhausted from his lack of sleep and his worry, he was fueled by adrenaline and his determination to find her.

Mr. Harris happened to be an early riser, and Erik was thankful of this when he knocked on the Butler's door. The two men ordered a carriage and set off, immediately.

The sun slowly raised in the sky, and everything around them became clearly visible. Long meadows of grass stretched out before them, and trees could be seen in the distance.

Three hours later, Erik was growing hopeless. The only thought that brought a slight comfort was that she had found a place to stay and that she was safe, but he could not ignore the feeling that this was not the case. Even if she had, it did not change the fact that she was gone.

His self-loathing intensified as he regretted the previous night. He should not have spoken hurtful words and he should have prevented her from leaving. If anything had happened to her...if she was no longer alive...he would not be able to live with himself.

Far in the distance, he could see a dark blur among the grass. He directed all of his efforts and attention to that shadow, and though he couldn't make out what it was, a small voice inside of his head told him to inspect it. He knocked on the carriage wall and ordered for the driver to stop.

"What is it?" Mr. Harris asked, alarmed, as he watched Erik open the door.

"There is something over there," he replied, pointing to the direction that he had intended on going. Once he felt the hard ground beneath him, he walked closer to it. When he saw that it was a body, and that the person possessed long dark hair, he nearly broke out into a sprint and Mr. Harris lagged behind.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw her clearly. Her hair was a mess, her face and clothes dirtied. She laid on the ground, curled up from the coldness of the previous night, and her eyes were closed.

Erik immediately bent down and touched her, but she did not respond.


	49. Chapter 49

**The next chapter (50) will be VERY long since it's the ending. I can't believe I've finished this story in a little over a month! (Usually it takes me years to finish a normal-sized book). Now I can go back and edit it to make it better.**

**I was going to have an epilogue to this, but decided that maybe I could expand it into a sequel in the future. In the meantime, I would like to begin a new story. But, posting every day has been exhausting, so I might take a few days' hiatus (but I promise it won't be longer than a week!).**

**I wasn't listening to music when I wrote this chapter today, but the song that's been stuck in my head fits perfectly. "The Scientist" by Coldplay. Especially the part where it says, "Nobody said this was easy, it's such a shame for us to part..."**

**Anyway, here it is.**

Ch. 49

In a panic, Erik gently shook her until her eyes fluttered open. Her face was pale, her lips had a bluish tint to them. A soft blanket of dew covered the ground, frozen into small shards of ice from the cold night.

Alinah wanted to speak, even to whisper, but her body was shivering and her lips, trembling. She could not find the voice within her.

Erik noticed her struggle, and saw how her teeth chattered. She had been wearing a coat, but most of it was dampened and cold. He removed his own coat, feeling the sting of the early morning air through his clothes, and placed it over her before he picked her up in his arms. She was too weak to wrap an arm around his neck, so she rested her head on his shoulder, instead, and closed her eyes.

When Mr. Harris saw the young girl, he stifled a gasp. He immediately went back to the carriage to open the door for his Master, and upon doing so, he asked,

"Is she alright?"

"She is very weak, but I think that she needs only rest and a warm blanket."

Once in the carriage, instead of setting her down, Erik held her in his arms to preserve body heat. He wrapped the coat tighter around her as the carriage lurched forward toward its destination. He placed a warm palm on her cold cheek, but still she did not open her eyes. He wondered if she was even conscious of anything around her, or maybe she was sleeping, and he hoped that his words had been true and that a warm bed was the cure for her.

Given the circumstances, Mr. Harris did not say a word about his Master's intimate position with her. He watched the pale girl as Erik pulled her closer to his chest in an attempt to warm her.

When they arrived, Mr. Harris opened every single door for his Master until they were upstairs. Instead of turning in the direction of her room, however; Erik stood in front of his own door.

"Do you not think it best that she remain in her room?" Mr. Harris' reprimanding was evident by his tone of voice.

Erik sighed, frustrated, as he struggled to open the door while carrying her.

"She is only resting, and I should like to watch over her in case something were to happen. She could develop a fever."

"Can you not do that in her room? Certainly you can check on her once-in-a-while. It is not necessary for her to be locked in a man's room. _Alone together._.."

Erik finally managed to open the door, and he did so with a loud huff of irritation.

"Am I not entitled to do as I please in this house?" he growled, becoming impatient with his elder servant. "I do not know how long she will rest, and should it be a considerable amount of time, I have other things in my room that need attending to."

Once inside his room, Erik kicked the door with his foot so that it would close and he set her down on his bed. He removed her wet coat and observed the damp dress that she wore. Though it would have been best for her to be completely dry, he did not want to invade on her privacy by removing her wet clothes (not to mention, the thought of it made him grow nervous). Instead, he piled sheets and blankets on top of her until they covered everything up to her neck. He lit the fireplace and sat down at his desk. And he waited.

The first thing that she had been made aware of, even before opening her eyes, was the faint sound of music that grew louder when she gained full consciousness. A soft, tender song was played by the keys of the piano, and she recognized it to be the one from the night when she had confessed her love for her Master. How long ago those days felt to her, yet not much time had passed since then.

She slowly opened her eyes and felt a sharp pain in her head. As if agreeing, her stomach began to ache, as well.

She sat up and noticed the bed that she was laying on. She looked around her to see the candlelight flickering among Erik's room, and the sky was darkening through the window.

He didn't notice her awaken, too focused on his music. She watched him play in earnest, his eyes closed and his brows knitted. She could not determine if the expression on his face was one of pain or passion, but she guessed it to be a bit of both.

Somehow, he could sense that someone was watching him, and he opened his eyes to look at her. His hands fell to his lap and the ring of the last key filled the air after the song had come to an abrupt halt.

"I did not mean to disturb you," she mumbled. He ignored her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She looked down at herself, ashamed. Though she had been carried away with her emotions when she left, she now realized what a stupid mistake it had been. She was typically never one to behave on impulse, but the feeling of failure during the years of growing up and then being married to Walter had manifested itself when she saw that the Vicomtess would be attending the Masquerade, knowing Erik's sentiments for her.

She had assumed that she would take second place in his heart, just as she had in Walter's, and that Christine would always mean more to him, yet she hadn't even given him the opportunity to explain himself. Perhaps he truly hadn't known that she would be there, after all. Yet, the jealous part of her insisted that he had been the Phantom of the Opera, and it was rare, if not impossible, that anything should catch him by surprise.

No matter whether or not he had intended to see Christine again, Alinah felt remorse for her actions. She could see the pain that she had caused him written on his features, not to mention the fact that she had gotten herself lost. She had been cold, thirsty, exhausted, and now, famished. When she had laid her head down that night on her own, she expected to be met with death. She had given up on finding her way back.

She cleared the thoughts from her head, and answered his question.

"Much better now. Thank you."

"Mr. Harris has brought you a plate of food, only an hour ago, in case you should awaken," he gestured to the plate beside her, resting on the nightstand.

Alinah eyed the bread, cheese, and fruit with an overpowering appetite. She nodded in agreement and took the plate in her hands, nearly devouring everything at once. A glass of water remained and she gulped it down.

"How long did I sleep?" she asked, setting the empty dishes back where they had been. Clarity had returned to her and the pain disappeared. Erik could see the life and energy in her countenance, once more, and he was thankful that she had not caught a cold or a fever. The color had returned to her cheeks and the youthful vigor in her manners.

"We found you yesterday morning."

She glanced at the clock and read the time; ten after seven o'clock in the evening. She had been asleep for two days; a record in her book, and not one that she was proud of.

Though she wished to ignore the consequences of her foolish actions, she could feel the thick tension in the air as he stared at her, his gaze lacking emotion. Many things whirled in her mind, but only one was spoken.

"What will happen, now?"

"What do you mean?" he countered.

"Will my actions not be punished?" she asked, her face reddening with embarrassment. How she wished that she could take back that thoughtless night! She frowned when she wondered if the beautiful dress was still awaiting her on her bed. She would never have the chance of wearing it for him.

Erik did not respond. He looked away from her and glanced into the fireplace, instead.

Despite her better judgement, she found herself asking, "Did you go to the Masquerade?"

Her question caught him off-guard but he replied, "No."

A wave of relief washed over her, followed closely by guilt. "Why not?"

"Because I was searching for you."

If she could become any more ashamed, she would be surprised. She wanted to hide herself from him, and she was grateful that his focus was on the flames of the fire instead of on her.

Judging by the stern look on his face, she wondered if she had not only ruined that night, but perhaps, everything. Had she caused him to regret his feelings for her? Would he ever forgive her?

She wanted to touch his face, to ease his troubles, and to soften his expression. I love you, she would tell him, I am sorry. Please don't give up on me; I am only broken. I need you more than you will ever know.

She slowly stood from the bed and hesitated to take a few steps closer to him. She kept her distance when she saw him turn to her with a blank expression on his face.

"If you are well enough, then I will order a carriage for you," he stated, shattering any hope that she had left. His voice was cold, his behavior distant. He no longer seemed to be the warm man in love with her. She frowned when she noticed how he looked at her; as if he felt nothing for her, at all. She would have preferred anger or shouting over this.

Please, this can't be true, she wanted to say, I will not leave you again...

She saw her cloth sack lying on the floor beside the bed, and she went to pick it up. She turned around to look at him once more, silently pleading with her eyes.

"Where will I be going?"

He waited a few moments before he answered her, and the suspense of it all ripped her nerves to shreds.

"I have already found a new situation for you. There is a place somewhere that I know of, that could use your assistance. You will find employment there," he said. He could not bring himself to look at her.

Her heart nearly burst in her chest, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. She would not throw away what little dignity that she had before him. Still, she would not leave without a fight.

"Must I go? I do not want to leave-"

"If you did not wish to leave, then you never would have left me, two nights ago!" he snapped.

He rubbed his temples and calmed himself down. When he looked at her, she could see the anger fade into indifference, and she felt that the stabbing pain that she received from his coarse and careless behavior, as if his love for her had vanished, was worse than his temper.

"I have already made the arrangements. Go and prepare yourself."

Though she wished to plead with him, to persuade him otherwise, or even to beg for his forgiveness, she saw by his determination that it would be useless. This would be her punishment for her actions, and she knew that she had deserved it. Why should he welcome her return with open arms, after she so coldly left him? She nodded sadly, doing everything that she could to will the tears away. She swallowed the thick, aching lump in her throat and went to the door.

He watched her open it, and to prevent her from changing her mind on obeying his orders, he added,

"You were right; you are not Christine. That is precisely why you are leaving."

After she had brushed her hair and changed into a clean dress, she made her way downstairs and outside to see a carriage waiting patiently for her. An invisible force seemed to crush the air from her lungs and she choked back tears as she stepped inside. How she had managed not to let a tear escape her until now, was beyond her.

When she felt the carriage begin to move, she could not hold her emotion in any longer. She wept bitterly in the privacy of the carriage as she watched the Deberaux Estate disappear from sight. She could still hear his words in her ears.

'You are not Christine'.


	50. Chapter 50

**For those of you still awake, I won't make you wait until tomorrow for the final chapter. As you can see, I'm just as excited to post it as you are to read it.**

**As I've mentioned before, I will edit this story a few times, so if you happen to read it again in the future, it will hopefully be better. I think that I will make a sequel in the future. In the meantime, I will start my E/C fic, then either another O/C or the sequel.**

**Thank you so much for my faithful reviewers! I couldn't have done it without you! I am so sad that it is ending, but this won't be the last that you hear from me!**

**If you haven't already done so, please leave a comment and let me know what you thought of my story (especially after this chapter).**

**Enjoy!**

Ch. 50 (Final Chapter)

The carriage ride was short, and in about half an hour, it stopped. Alinah wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and sniffled. Her head felt heavy, her face felt swollen, and she could barely see anything in the dark. She wished more than anything that she could remain inside of the carriage, as she didn't want to face whatever was waiting for her outside. The thought of starting a new life was not something that she looked forward to anymore.

The door was opened for her and she stepped out to see a small building in front of her. She could see flickering candlelight inside, but the windows were covered. They looked to be more of displays with shelves instead of windows.

She frowned as she walked to the door, which was made of mostly glass and was transparent. She could make out a wooden floor and that someone was inside, but she couldn't see much of anything else.

She knocked on the door, and a young man answered. She guessed that he was in his early twenties, younger than herself, with short dark hair and dark eyes. She couldn't see much of his features clearly, as he held a single candle and welcomed her in. She was more confused than ever before when he stood in the middle of the room and looked at her.

She glanced around once the door was shut, to see shelves of all sorts and display cases that were empty. The place looked to be well-maintained and clean, but unoccupied. Another door was against the wall between the display cases and she wondered where it led to.

"You have been expected," the young man stated. "You are Ms. Claude, I presume?"

"Yes," she replied, licking her lips and looking back at him. Who was this man, and how did Erik know him? More importantly, where was she?

"Stay here. I have been ordered to wait in the other room."

He began to walk to the other door, but she stopped him.

"What am I waiting for? Where am I?"

He stopped, with his hand on the doorknob. "All questions will be answered, soon."

With that, he left her to herself. She had half the mind to follow him, but she decided to wait, instead. She walked about the room, brushing her hands along the surfaces of the counters. It looked to have once been a shop of some sort, and she guessed that perhaps she was waiting for the owner to arrive. But then, who was this young man who was ordered to wait somewhere else?

After ten minutes had passed, she sat down in an empty chair that she had found behind the counter, feeling weak and tired from her emotions. When thinking of Erik and her current circumstances, she wanted to cry again, but she kept it in.

She straightened up, straining her eyes when the front door opened fifteen minutes later. Inside walked a dark shadow, and her heart began to pound fiercily in her chest. With only the few candles scattered in the room and the person wearing a dark cloak, she could not see his identity.

He locked the door behind him and fear began to seize her. Had she gone to the right place? Was it someone who knew who she was, and what she had done to her late husband? She shuddered to think that Erik would be so cruel as to turn her in, but the dark shadow began to approach her, and she had to wonder.

"In the next room you will find something to wear. Put it on," his voice commanded. It was a deep, rich sound.

"E-Erik?" she stuttered, uncertain of herself. She stood to her feet and tried to see who he was, but the hood of his cloak covered his face and he towered over her. She mentally chided herself for thinking that it was him.

The man ignored her and waited patiently for her to comply. She couldn't help but to feel uneasy about the situation, and she hesitated. Why a stranger would wish her to change clothes was beyond her, let alone that it was night time and they were alone. She didn't even know where she was, in the first place.

What she wouldn't give to be in her warm bed at that moment. She would have preferred that Erik attend the Masquerade without her, knowing that Christine would be there, instead of this. If she could reverse time she would do so to the night that she had left him. How foolish she had been, and now she would have to suffer for her mistake.

He could see her reluctance, and he added, "You are safe."

She nodded in acknowledgement but his assurance hadn't eased her mind. Still, she made her way to the next room to see another empty space and yet another door. She imagined that the young man was through the second door, but she would not venture further to find out.

A chair sat against the wall, and on it, a wrapped garment. She hesitated to walk over to it, even more perplexed by her strange surroundings and the stranger's request. She caught a glimpse of purple silk and when she saw that it was her Masquerade gown, she gasped. Along with it, the mask lay there. Tears formed in her eyes and she stormed into the front room in a rage.

The dark and concealed stranger waited for her, still. He had expected her outburst of anger, and he welcomed it calmly.

"Is this some cruel sort of humor?!" she yelled, shaking the mask in her hands. "Did Monsieur Deberaux make you do this? And who are, you, anyway, that I should do such a thing?!"

He pulled back the hood of his cloak just enough for her to see the painfully-white half-mask that he wore. Her breath caught in her throat and her expression softened.

"Is it you?" she asked, reluctant. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion and she stood there dumbly. "Erik? I don't understand...why are you here and why do you want me to wear this?"

He waited a few moments before he responded, and both the silence and suspense were nearly too much for her to bear.

"I have come to say my farewell. I did spend quite a bit on that dress, and I wish to know what you would have looked like in it," Erik replied. "I may never see you again, and I want to part with a fond memory."

His words, though soft, brought a sharp pain to her heart. He was there to say goodbye, not to stop her. Of course he had the right to see her in the dress that he had purchased for her, but to do so was pure torture to her, as it reminded her of what could have been.

"I do not understand why-"

"Please do not disobey me," he warned. "This is my final request from you."

Nodding, she walked back into the empty room with the dress and made certain that both doors in there were locked before she changed.

Tightening the corset was nearly impossible on her own, but she managed to lace all of the strings, even if it hadn't been to their full potential. When she slid on her purple jeweled shoes and matching mask, she walked over to the abandoned mirror that leaned against the corner of the room. Tears formed in her eyes when she took in her reflection and let her hair down. How she wished that she had been staring at her reflection on the night of the Masquerade, waiting for Erik, instead of saying goodbye to him.

She picked up her skirts so that they wouldn't drag on the floor and slowly made her way out of the room, her shoes clicking on the wood. When she opened the door, she was greeted by hundreds of small candles, sitting on every surface and ledge imagineable. The whole room had been turned into a glowing, glistening light of beauty. She slowly walked to the center of the room, awe-struck by the amount of candles and the enchanting glow that they cast about her.

Erik inhaled sharply as he leaned against the wall, observing her. Her dress shimmered in the light, hugged around her small frame and exposed her shoulders. Her skin bare, looked soft and flawless, her long hair cascading in curls down her back. The mask covered half of her face, but the gold embellishments brought out the blue in her eyes. He could see her chest rise and fall with each breath that she took.

She noticed him near the corner and took in his appearance with her stare. He had discarded the cloak and wore black dress attire, with a golden vest. His dark hair, perfectly sleeked back, shone in the light. He straightened up and took slow, deliberate steps closer to her, the flame dancing in his eyes. She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to kiss him as he stood in front of her.

"What-what are you doing?" she asked, finding that her thoughts had fled from her.

He held out his arms for her. "Will you not dance with me?"

"But we have no music."

She grimaced when the words left her mouth. Out of all of the things that she could possibly say, the most thoughtless one had escaped her lips.

In response, Erik clapped his hands together in mid-air. The sound of a violin began to play in the next room, but it was loud enough for them to hear. Ah, so that must be what the young man is for, she thought to herself, how clever. Erik's behavior was even more puzzling to her now than ever before.

"Now," he resumed, "Will you dance?"

So many thoughts whirled through her head that she couldn't focus. She nodded absentmindedly and placed one hand on his shoulder, the other was gripped by his own large fingers. When she felt his free hand snake around the small of her back, she felt her heart leap to her throat and her pulse quicken.

As they began to dance, softly and slowly, she found her emotions return to her. The room was void of conversation, and she could feel his movements with hers. Though part of her wanted to sigh and to enjoy the moment, the other part became anxious. When she recognized the song to be the very same one that he had played after their declaration of love, she pulled away from him, ripping herself out of his grasp.

"What is the meaning of this?!" she shrieked. She could not ignore what was happening and pretend that everything was alright. She wanted answers, and she would get them. The candles flickered against his face and the violin still sung in the air.

"I do not want to part on negative terms," he replied calmly. There was not a trace of emotion on his face; simply the same casual indifference, which infuriated her even more.

"And I do not want to part at all!" she shouted, her voice cracking as she did. It took everything within her not to break down in front of him, but her voice betrayed her. She took a deep breath before adding, "Why would you do this to me?"

"What is it that you are speaking of?"

"You are mocking me! This," she gestured to the candles all around her, "You are taunting me! You are putting me through agony! Is it a game to you to show me what I can't have, but I so desperately want?"

He slowly stepped closer to her, his calmness contrasted her hysterics.

"And why would it be agony for you?" he asked. She noticed his close proximity to her but her anger overpowered her and she stepped away from him.

"Because it is something that I cannot have!"

"And why is that?"

"You said it yourself!"

"I said nothing of the sort."

Alinah turned away from him, enraged. She could not dare to look into his eyes as he enjoyed playing a game of cat and mouse with her. Whatever satisfaction he was receiving from his actions brought her great suffering, and she was determined not to let him win.

"Why must you do this?" she whimpered. "You are giving me false hope; you are stringing my heart along for your own selfish purpose!"

"Why does this cause you so much pain? Can we not part on friendly terms?"

"Because I still love you!" she yelled. She turned around to face him and said softer, "I love you..."

She covered her face in her hands and wept. "I know that I do not deserve your forgiveness," she began as she tried to wipe the tears away and to look up at him, "But I have a heart, Erik! If I must leave because you wish it, then it is cruel of you to do this to me!"

"And what if I do not wish it?"

She continued to cry, feeling her heart break with each word that he spoke. His expression softened, but he did not comfort her as her body shook with sobs.

"How can you even say that? Do you wish to torment me?" she asked in disbelief. "You told me that I am not Christine and that was why I must leave..."

He ignored her questions and pulled out a small box from his pocket.

"I can see that you are upset and I should be leaving, soon. I want to give you something as a parting gift. After tonight, you will no longer be my servant."

She eyed the grey box in his hands, the size of one of his hands and rectangular-shaped, wrapped with a crimson-colored ribbon. Seeing the small gift made her cry even more, as she was hit with the cold reality that he truly was leaving her.

"I do not want anything that you have for me! If we must part, then leave me be to my misery and cease this nonsense at once!"

"Please," he urged her, "If it is the last thing that you do, open it."

Though she wanted to curse him for his boldness and to shout at him to go away, she took the box from him, anyway. It was quite heavy, and the thought that he had given her a farewell gift only increased her pain.

She untied the ribbon and lifted off the lid to see a beautifully-wrapped object. When she had ripped off the floral wrapping paper she pulled out a round box the size of her palm. She set down the wrapping on the surface of a display case to inspect the round box.

It was made of ivory and polished with a pearl finish. Rubies covered the lid in the shape of a rose and white diamonds encircled it along the golden edges where the box opened. She felt a small lever at the bottom of it and lifted the box up to see that it would play music. After she twisted the little knob, the lid opened to reveal a light pink velvet interior. It played that same song.

Once she could hear its tiny tune, she finally noticed that the violin had stopped. She began to sob uncontrollably. How would she ever be able to hear the music box without thinking of him, without remembering how he once played for her? How would she be able to look upon its design without thinking of the crimson roses that he had once given her?

Her life would never be the same. She knew that she would become an empty shell of what she once was. Only he could bring life into her, yet he chose to turn her away.

"How could you do this to me?" she asked, over and over again. "Why must you torture me?"

"Alinah..." he breathed softly, feeling the pain of hurting her. He almost regretted the way that he had treated her, but he reminded himself that it must be done. It was for the better.

"I will never be the same without you!" she cried. "I will never be her, but is my love not enough? I would do whatever it takes to make you happy! And still, I am not good enough..."

"Please, don't," he pleaded. "I do not want to hear you say those things."

"But it is true!" she countered. "I will never sing, I will never have her beauty, and I will never share what you two did! I cannot produce children, I am nothing special in this world...I am plain and ordinary...no one will remember me when I die."

A lump formed in Erik's throat as he held back his own emotions. He felt remorse for reducing her to her present condition.

"That is not true..."

"How can you say that?" she yelled, her anger returning. "You, who wish to turn me away! Did you not yearn for love your entire life? Yet you throw it away, you discard my love for you, as if my heart was nothing more than a play-thing that you tired of! I have feelings, you know! I am a human being...a woman...a woman who loves you with every fiber of my being and yet you still want _her_!"

She nearly forgot the music box in her hands, and when the tune ended, she looked at it again. As soon as the last chime filled the air, the bottom of the music box overturned to reveal a ring. A large, square-cut yellow diamond in the center, with white diamonds covering the band. She stopped crying and her eyes widened in shock. The breath seemed to escape her.

Was she dreaming? She must have been, for she had never seen such a beautiful piece of jewelry, and surrounded by the candles as Erik stepped closer to her with an intense longing in his eyes...it couldn't be real.

He reached his hand up to her face and carefully stroked the visible part of her cheek with his thumb, wiping the tears away. She stared up at him in awe, noticing the warm expression on his features. She glanced back down at the ring, noticing the way that the light played upon its facets. It was the most astonishingly gorgeous diamond that she had ever seen and her hands trembled from holding it.

"You will never be Christine..." he breathed. "You have not hurt me and you are not afraid of me. You have given me what she never could."

Alinah felt herself grow weak and her pulse raced within her. Dare she hope that it wasn't a dream? She looked back up at him, his hand still lingering on her skin.

"I love you, Alinah, and you alone. I cannot pass life without you by my side," his hands trailed down to her own, trembling fingers as she held on tightly to the music box. He kneeled down in front of her and she began to cry for an entirely different reason. This would have alarmed him, if he had not seen the smile that began to form on her lips.

"You will no longer be my servant. This place," he gestured to the room around them, "is yours. It is your Patisserie."

She gasped and looked around her, seeing the room with opened eyes. She could imagine baking all sorts of desserts and pastries and turning the empty rooms into something marvelous. She would create whatever she wanted, for the world to enjoy. The sheer joy of everything was too much for her to bear and she felt that her heart would burst with happiness.

She glanced back at him, the sheer pleasure and surprise of it was overwhelming.

"And I ask that you have me, as well," he said.

She could see the reluctant smile on his face and the nervousness in his eyes as he waited for her response. He searched her eyes, wanting so desperately to hear those sweet words upon her lips.

"For if I cannot have you as my wife, then I cannot have you, at all."

He slipped the ring out of the box and held it in his fingers out before her. She saw the sparkling gemstone against the candlelight.

"Please, say that you will be mine."

Her smile widened as she said, "I am, and always will be, yours."

The relief that he felt was evident when he stood up to meet her gaze. He slid the ring on her finger and pulled her to him, colliding his lips with hers. The violin began to play once more and their kiss deepened with passion. When he pulled away, he stared into her eyes.

"I wrote this song for you," he said.

Alinah's grin widened as she set the music box down on the counter and felt the excitement grow when she saw the ring on her finger.

"Well then, let us dance," she said.

* * *

**The end. (haha, A.B.P. you are a mind-reader!)**


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